Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water
by poorpiratelass
Summary: Post Dead Man's Chest. With the heart of Davy Jones in the palm of Lord Beckett's hand, the pirates of the Caribbean are in desperate need of a hero. And that's where Captain Cecily O'Connor comes in. Took a turn for Norrington/OC. BEING REVISED.
1. The Sea Ain't Right

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Summary: Post _Dead Man's Chest_. While Will and company are off to save Captain Jack Sparrow, the Caribbean is in turmoil. With the heart of Davy Jones in the palm of Lord Beckett's hand, the pirates of the Caribbean are in desperate need of a hero. And that's where Captain Cecily O'Connor comes in.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Sea Ain't Right

The Caribbean was turning orange under the setting sun, and a broad, powerful ship was cutting through its waters, headed north for the mainland. It was a larger vessel, darker than most, but mostly normal looking – all except the sails. The ship flew red sails, which most would say was just asking for trouble. Too bright, too conspicuous, the defiant red color drew conflict the way carrion drew buzzards.

Scrawled across the ship's flank was the name "_Bloody Sunrise_."

Sandra Church's sea boots pounded on the deck as she crossed the ship, headed for the helm. She was not the captain of the ship, but the first mate. The captain of the _Bloody Sunrise_ was a woman named Cecily O'Connor, who currently stood at the ship's helm. Sandra approached her cautiously.

Cecily was a short woman, yet she somehow always managed to seem taller than she was. Her clothing, ragged from sun and salt, was mostly black. She might fade into the shadows if it weren't for that shock of dirt blonde hair.

At the moment, the captain wore a reflective look that normally would have deterred Sandra from bothering her, but tonight was different. Tonight, she had to ask.

"Cap'n," she murmured. "Where's about we headed?"

"We've got a headin' for Tia Dalma's place," Cecily replied. Unlike Sandra, her accent bore no resemblance to the common women who worked the streets of Tortuga, but was instead a thick Irish brogue.

"Whatever for?"

"Don't ask questions. Just sail."

The captain's tone was surly. Sandra ducked her head and made to leave.

"Wait," Cecily called after her. Sandra stopped in her tracks. "Tell Keely and Piper to get ready fer shore. We're almost there, and I want 'em to come off with us. Tia knows 'em better than me."

There was a hint of apology in the captain's voice. Sandra nodded, letting the earlier nastiness slide off her shoulders. "Oh," Cecily added. "Ye may as well bring Keith too."

"Aye, Cap'n," Sandra replied, and headed off to do her captain's bidding.

Cecily watched her first mate slip away from the helm. Sandra was one of her most trusted crewmembers and oldest friends. The chubby auburn haired woman had been at Cecily's side through good and bad, and Cecily really ought to watch how she spoke to her.

Still, she was short with others even on her best days, and especially lately. Her life as a pirate was a long and impressive resume of crime and destruction. She could steal, pillage, plunder and murder with the best of them. She was famous in her own right, and probably would have been no matter what, simply because she was a woman. But it helped that she was bloodthirsty. There were many who knew and feared her.

It was a long way to come for the daughter of a no account gambler and privateer from the cheap side of Galway, Ireland - and even if it hadn't been a pretty journey, it was an impressive one, and she was proud.

But also worried, because that long impressive pirate's resume meant only one thing to her at the moment: she was on the black list.

She'd never been one to fear the Navy. Sure, if she'd seen a ship of the fleet headed in her direction, she'd rarely confronted it – not if it could be avoided. Still, the Navy had never been the threat they'd aspired to be. When she'd begun sailing, the sea was still too big, the world was still expanding, and the Navy was still struggling to keep up. But now, things were changing. Some blamed it on the shrinking world, the taming of the seas, the advancements in the Royal Navy, the arrogance of the reigning pirate threats. But as report after report reached her ears, detailing the capture and hanging of more and more pirates – not just any pirates, either, but famous, fearsome, legendary pirates – it became clear that no one was safe.

Couple that with the tall tales flying around the sea these days, tales about sea goddesses and beating hearts and undead pirate captains… she didn't believe in wives' tales. Or, she hadn't believed in them, once upon a time.

But there was something dark happening on her ocean, and while she might not know exactly what it was, she did know she didn't like it: not one bit.

* * *

_Tortuga, two months earlier…_

The double doors of the Faithful Bride swung open violently, banging into the wall. Immediately the chatter inside the crowed tavern died away, and every head in the place swung up to ogle the new arrival.

The woman was dressed in a man's clothing, but it was obviously an outfit of convenience, and not an attempt at a disguise. She was flanked by other women, also in men's clothes, and men too (though they were not dressed like women).

The woman in the doorway seemed unaffected by the stares and stepped into the tavern without regarding a one of them. As she made her way towards the bar, entourage in tow, the bar patrons lost interest, turning their heads back to their drinks and resuming their noisy conversations.

She stomped over to the bar, slammed some coin down on the counter, and ordered drinks. Once she and her friends were served, the bartender moved to head off.

The woman caught his arm. "Hold up," she drawled in an Irish brogue.

The man froze. "I don't want no trouble, Captain O'Connor."

She smirked at him, not releasing his wrist. "And neither do I. I just want to know where a certain tenant of yers is this evening. Usually he's sitting down here, at yer counter, and yet this evening he's nowhere to be found. Tell me; does James Norrington not still reside in the rooms above yer establishment?"

"Well, aye… I mean, that is to say, he did."

"He did?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "And that is to say he no longer does?"

"Not for many weeks now, Cap'n."

"Ah. And why did he leave?"

"He joined a crew."

"A crew? Of pirates?"

"Aye."

"Whose crew?"

"The _Pearl's _crew."

"The _Pearl_?"

"Aye. Sparrow's ship."

"Sparrow… Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye, he's the one."

"I heard that ship sank."

"I heard the same, I'm afraid."

Silence.

Captain O'Connor chewed the corner of her lip, eyes fixed on the shelf of liquor bottles behind the bartender's head. "Will that be all?" the man asked hesitantly.

Cecily's eyes landed hard on the bartender. He flinched. "Ye know who James Norrington was, don't ye?"

"Aye."

"Previously a commodore in the King's Navy, he was."

"I remember well."

"Hates pirates."

"Didn't seem to mind ye all that much."

Her eyes narrowed. Her hand tightened on his wrist. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"No, no, I was just… the two of ye…"

"He tolerated me, as I did him," she snapped. "Hated what I did, though, and didn't bother keeping that a secret. So when ye tell me that James Norrington suddenly woke up one morning, hanged all his principles and ran off to join a pirate ship… well, understandably, I'm skeptical."

Silence.

Cecily cocked an eyebrow at the nervous bartender. "Now," she said. "Would there be something else ye'd like to tell me, good sir?"

He swallowed. "Nothing, Captain O'Connor."

"Nothing?"

"Well… I heard that a new commodore has been inducted into the Navy. By Lord Beckett."

"Who the bloody hell is Lord Beckett?"

"Well, he runs the East India Company, Cap'n."

Silence.

"Who's the new commodore?"

"Well… if rumors are to be believed…"

He hesitated. Cecily tightened her grip again on his wrist.

"Let us say there are," she growled.

"Then… the new commodore… some say it's… James Norrington."

She stared at him. The bartender squirmed.

"A rehire, eh?"

"If rumors are to be believed."

Silence. Then, a wide cheeky smile blossomed on the pirate woman's face. "Well, thank ye fer all the interesting information, lad," she chirped. "I'll leave ye to yer business."

She let go of his wrist. The man practically ran for the other end of the bar. Cecily was left alone to ponder his news, wondering exactly where the newly reinstated Navy commodore fit into the other changes currently churning up her ocean.

* * *

_Present Day… _

Sandra Church propelled her oar through the murky river water, grunting with the strain. Sitting in front of her with his back turned was a wiry man, approximately her age – neither young nor old – grunting under the strain of his own oar. His dark hair was cropped close to his scalp, and although she could not see his face, she knew a pair of spectacle sat on the bridge of his nose.

His name was Keith Markson, and she'd been sleeping with him for several months now. It was politically unsound, as she was the captain's first mate and he was the crew's elected quartermaster. She stood in for the captain on the rare occasions that the captain could not stand in for herself, and he represented the needs and rights of the crew.

Still, they kept sleeping together. It was doubtful they would be stopping anytime soon.

She glanced over her shoulder at the captain, who was sitting in the front of the boat, perched higher than the rest of them. Sandra couldn't help being unsettled. Once, the captain had little use for fairy tales and witchcraft. Now, she was seeking counsel with a voodoo witch in the midst of a swamp. It was a serious 180, and Sandra wondered if the rest of the crew was taking it as seriously as she was.

At least she was fairly certain the rest of the longboat was equally unsettled. Keely, the ship's master gunner, kept exchanging little looks with Piper, the ship's surgeon. The two of them were more attuned to the supernatural than Cecily had ever been, and even knew this voodoo witch, named Tia Dalma, on their own terms. They also knew that the captain did not believe in such things.

Like Sandra, Keely had been with Cecily from the beginning. She was a slim hipped, willowy girl with long chestnut brown hair, and at the moment, she looked as uneasy and confused as Sandra felt.

The same could be said about Piper. The surgeon was a tiny Chinese woman with shiny black hair and a shy manner. Cecily had found her stowing away on one of the many ships they'd attacked over the years, and upon seeing her treat the wounded without orders and with great skill, had immediately offered her a place on the _Sunrise_. She'd accepted with as much speed as Cecily had offered. No one knew the girl's real name. When she'd been found, she'd simply called herself Piper and given no other information than that. Sandra had often wondered how the soft-spoken woman had become such a trusted member of the crew, seeing as the captain appeared to have little in common with her.

But Piper _was_ trusted. Sandra suspected that while the crew knew little about the tiny woman, the captain knew plenty. And Piper knew the captain too. She knew how Cecily felt about witchcraft and voodoo. One look between Sandra and Piper was all it took to assure the first mate that Piper was as worried as she was.

The journey upriver ended beneath a ramshackle hut built on stilts, hidden by the large trees and heavy hanging Spanish moss growing along the riverbank. The longboat was anchored to a small dock underneath the roughly constructed tree house.

"Ah, I had a feeling the wind would be a blowin' ye me way," a heavy musical accent announced as the group stepped through the door.

The voice came from the center of the room, where a thin, dark-skinned woman with wild black hair sat at a litter strewn table. She was grinning at her visitors with a mouthful of black teeth.

"I haven't been seein' ye in a long time," she announced. "Cecily O'Connor.

"Tia Dalma," the captain replied. "Just the woman I was lookin' fer."

The captain sounded right at home, and Sandra couldn't understand why. Personally, she wanted out. One look at this hut should have been enough to send any sensible person running back to their longboat. Although warm and brightly lit, anything from dried herbs to dried animal skulls could be found hanging from the rafters, and the bare wood floors were crowded with trunks and cushions and old broken knick-knacks. Sandra couldn't be sure of course, but she was pretty sure a wild boar's head was hanging on the far wall.

"Ah, and I see you have brought Piper and Keely," Tia Dalma arose from her seat and embraced both women. "How have ye been traveling?"

"Just fine Tia, thanks," Keely replied, answering for both herself and Piper.

Sandra felt a sudden pinprick of jealousy. Only her status as first mate had put her on that longboat. When it came to dealing with the voodoo priestess, her help was not often needed.

Tia turned back to the captain. She did not embrace her. Captain Cecily O'Connor was just not the sort of woman you embraced, even if you were a scary voodoo priestess yourself. Sandra, for example, had hugged the captain only once – and she had been serving her for over a decade.

"I 'ave a feelin' that I might be a knowin' why it is ye've come to visit me, Cecily," Tia announced, still wearing her grin.

"Do ye?" Cecily returned, disinterested. "And why is that?"

"The 'eart of Davy Jones."

Sandra looked at her captain in shock. She was not the only one. Since when had Captain O'Connor entertained such fantasies as the legend of Davy Jones and his heart?

Their shock only grew when Cecily grinned and replied, "Well, I knew there was a reason I believed in yer work. Only yer's though."

Tia Dalma grinned back. "And what is it ye're expectin' out o' me?"

"I need to find a certain Lord Beckett," Cecily announced. "And it's hard to do when he's in control o' the bloody sea. So if ye have perhaps somethin' that could… put us on a level playing field, if ye know what I mean."

"Wait," Keith interrupted, sounding skeptical as usual. Sandra bit her lip, knowing Keith was about to infuriate the captain. It never failed really… he was always infuriating the captain. It was both a vice and a virtue; infuriating the captain was never smart, but at the same time it showed how dedicated he was to the crew that had elected him. "What are ye talkin' about, Lord Beckett's in control of the sea? And the heart of Davy Jones? That's just an ol' wives tale."

"Not all old wives tales are false, ye know," Cecily countered. "Some are just… hard to believe."

"It's hard to believe that some old pirate captain cut out his heart and placed it in a chest and then buried it somewhere?" Keith asked incredulously. "Well, hell, I wonder why that would be."

"Are ye second guessin' me, boy?"

"I think Keith just wants to know what ye're getting' us into, Cap'n," Sandra quickly cut in, hoping to diffuse the situation. The last thing she wanted was for Keith to receive the thrashing of his life.

"I'm taking back me ocean," Cecily replied in a growling fashion.

The reply hardly satisfied Sandra, but she was reluctant to press Cecily for details. Fortunately, Keely did it for her - a rather bold move considering her rank, but her history with the captain protected her.

"Cecily," Keely put in. "I think ye're overreacting just a little. Lord Beckett isn't controlling the sea just because his naval forces are pulling in more pirates than usual…"

"Each week, they bring in twice as many as they use to bring in per month!" Cecily snapped. "Ye've seen it! Battered ships, once belonging to fierce pirate captains, rendered as useless as driftwood! Men who were once feared all throughout the Caribbean hanging at the entrance to every harbor! Used to be, mere months ago, the king's joke o' a Navy couldn't catch a smuggler in port! Now they're dragging in pirates from all o'er the sea! And not just any pirates, mind ye. Infamous, bloodthirsty pirates! Ever since that smug royal from the East India Company used his influence to win control over the King's Navy, we pirates have become an endangered species. Ye take the death toll, ye add in Lord Beckett, ye review the tales – tales about sea monsters and mythical pirate captains and sinking ships… ye remember James Norrington? Reduced to a drunkard in Tortuga? Suddenly, he takes a position on a pirate ship? Even though he hates pirates? And then the ship sinks immediately after that, and all o' a sudden, Lord Beckett reinstates him as a commodore! Same pay, same benefits, with personal recommendation from the East India Company? Don't ye see it?"

Sandra _didn't_ see it, and from the looks on the other three's faces, she doubted they saw it either. "I don't see how they're all connected," she said skeptically.

"I could connect the dots fer ye," Tia Dalma spoke. "But first…"

"I know, I know, ye demand payment," Cecily interrupted harshly. She emptied a bag of coin on the table. "For yer information. More where that came from, s'long as I find yer merchandise satisfactory."

Tia Dalma smiled with satisfaction herself. "Captain Sparrow is dead, it is true," she murmured. "And the Kracken is responsible. But Captain Sparrow shall not remain so long."

"Oh please," Keith grumbled.

"Some certain… comrades of his," Tia explained. "They a gone to bring him back from the place he's gone to, and they have a taken a captain who know them waters. Him name is Barbossa."

"Barbossa?" Keith seemed unable to contain himself. Inwardly, Sandra rolled her eyes, wondering when Keith would learn to hold his tongue. "But he's dead too."

"Didn't remain so long, did he?" Tia Dalma returned triumphantly.

Keith rolled his eyes but unlike Sandra didn't bother to hide the action.

"And?" Cecily demanded. "What does this have to do with the things bein' done to me ocean?"

"E'eryt'ing," Tia Dalma replied. "Be'ore he disappeared into the depths, Jack Sparrow was in search of the 'eart o' Davy Jones."

A silence fell. Sandra was skeptical, and everyone else looked the same. Cecily's face, however, was unreadable, and that only served to further worry Sandra.

"And?" Cecily prompted when Tia Dalma failed to continue.

"Well," Tia Dalma said, as though it were obvious. "Jack Sparrow went a lookin' for the 'eart, ne'er came back, and now it seems to 'ave fallen into the wrong hands. Is it any surprise that a somewhere along the way, it may 'ave gotten lost?"

"Or it was taken," Cecily returned.

For a moment, neither the captain nor the priestess spoke, and Sandra didn't know what to make of that. Then Cecily nodded, her mouth set in a grim line, as though her worst suspicions had just been confirmed - which only served to make Sandra more ill at ease.

"Well, in that case," Cecily finally said. "I'll be wantin' that somethin' I spoke o' earlier."

Tia Dalma grinned. "Ah yes. To 'level the playing field,' as ye said. I 'ave just the t'ing!"

She disappeared around a corner. Sandra could hear Tia Dalma banging around and cursing, wondering out loud what she had done with the blasted thing. Suddenly, she heard, "Aha! Found it!"

Then the witch reappeared, a large, rolled-up parchment in her hand.

"What is it?" Cecily demanded.

"It's a map," Tia Dalma declared triumphantly.

Cecily stared at her.

"A special map," Tia Dalma assured her. "It'll lead you to anyone or anyt'ing you want to find. All ye 'ave to do is ask – _and _drop somet'ing on it – and it will show ye where what ye want lies."

Cecily nodded again. "I see. And ye demand payment?"

Tia Dalma grinned. "Ye promised."

Cecily smiled slightly and emptied a second bag of coin onto the table. Tia Dalma's face lit up and she promptly handed over the map. "Thanks be to ye," she grinned. "May yer travels be… profitable."

"Thank ye, Tia," Cecily returned. The others added their good-byes, and the small group returned to their longboat.

But Sandra wasn't about to let this rest. "Cecily, are ye mad?" she hissed as they climbed back into the longboat. "Ye don't even know if that thing works, and ye gave her all that money…. And ye don't really expect to find the heart of Davy Jones in Lord Beckett's possession, do ye?"

"Aye, Sandra, as a matter o' fact I do."

Sandra wasn't sure what she had been expecting Cecily to say, but that certainly hadn't been it. "Ye are mad," Keith said, staring at her, and Sandra found herself agreeing with him.

"What are ye even thinkin' Cecily? Where is yer head at?" she asked desperately. "Do ye even know what ye're doin'?"

Cecily sighed. "All I know Sandra, is that the sea ain't right. The winds, the waves, the tides, the currents, they're all a changin'. Somethin's wrong here, and I intend to find out what it is."


	2. Old Friends

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 2: Old Friends

James Norrington stood on board his little sailboat, scrutinizing his pride and joy. Once, the sailboat had been decaying, its paint cracked and its sails full of holes. Now, she was painted a crisp blue, and the sails were clean, white and whole. The worn rotting deck had been replaced with rich, finished planks of wood.

He spent most of his off-duty hours down at the docks in Port Royal, even on days not so nice as this one. It was a warm, humid day, made bearable by the salty breeze whipping around the island. His shirt was damp with sweat, and he'd discarded his wig. For two hours now he'd been working on his sailboat, alone as usual, too busy to notice or care who passed by.

Until he heard the voice.

"Well, well, if it isn't James Norrington."

James knew that brogue. He spun around, hoping his eyes would prove his ears false. On the damp, salt-stained dock stood a short, pretty woman with dark blonde hair and a cheeky grin on her face. She leaned on her forearms, perched on the side of his boat. James found himself at a loss for words - but it was _not _because the woman was pretty.

For a moment, it was quiet between the two of them. The sun warmed James' shoulders, and the breeze picked up again, ruffling his loose white shirt. The wind blew the woman's hair into her face. Somewhere up above them, a seagull cried.

"Got to say, darling, I much preferred ye with the beard," she said, breaking the silence.

He glared. She was unfazed.

"Ah, well," she shrugged, hints of her cheeky grin still lingering on her lips. "At least ye're not wearing a wig."

And though he was still most unpleasantly surprised to see her, James now regained his composure. "Captain Cecily O'Connor," he murmured ruefully. "Why am I not really all that surprised?"

"Heard ye made Commodore. Again," Cecily smirked. "Kudos."

"Thank you," he returned. "Although I doubt your congratulations are sincere."

"Ah, ye say that like I don't want ye to be happy."

"Well, you are here."

"Most inconvenient, I'll bet. What with it bein' in public and all."

James sighed and returned to his boat. He stared hard at the wooden plank he'd been engaged in replacing mere minutes ago, his lips tight with irritation.

"What do you want, Cecily?"

Of all the people who could have come down to the docks that afternoon, Captain O'Connor was the most likely to ruin his day.

"I think ye know, seein' as ye're the reason I want it."

"Come again?"

Cecily pushed herself off the side of the sailboat and stood straight, her hand resting on her hip. She squinted against the sun, her lips twitching into a small unpleasant grin. "Sold yer soul fer a Navy position. Can't say I'm too surprised. Although, I had been givin' ye the benefit o' the doubt."

James was suddenly uncomfortably hot under the shining sun.

"I mean, really Norrington," Cecily continued. "I know ye loved yer job and all, but come on. All the shite ye'll be puttin' up with fer that man? Sea ain't the sea no more, ye know? Not even for ye. Maybe especially not for ye."

"I don't know what you mean," he returned coldly.

"I know what ye did," Cecily announced, looking him hard in the eye.

He swallowed, feeling his control over the situation slipping away. Briefly, he wondered if he'd had any to begin with. Still, James never wavered as he stared back at the pirate woman. "I haven't done anything."

"Ye stole the heart o' Davy Jones and handed it over to Lord Cutler Beckett to get yer old life back," Cecily returned, her green eyes boring into his.

"Don't be ridiculous," he replied, still holding his own in their little staring contest. "There's no such thing."

"Don't lie to me, James."

"Don't lie to you? Hmm. Forgive me, but I'm suddenly astounded by your hypocrisy."

"I don't know what ye mean by that."

"I'm sure you don't. Because you're such an honest woman, after all."

"Aye. And ye're a perfectly dishonest Navy officer. Why do ye lie to me, James? It breaks my heart."

"What heart?"

"The tiny black one beatin' under me ribs."

He smirked.

"I know ye're responsible for all this, James," she told him, cheeky grin leaving her face. "I know ye joined that pirate crew out o' Tortuga, and I know ye somehow got out o' that shipwreck alive. And then somehow, ye got yer job back with the Navy, and I'm inclined to believe that the price fer yer old life was a high one, aye? Ye handed something over to the head of the East India Company in exchange for yer job back – something valuable, that no one else could have given him. And I'm inclined to believe that li'l something was the heart of Davy Jones."

It was true. All of it was true. He had to wonder where she got her information, how she had learned so much about his recent adventures. It was unsettling, to be told so much about himself. But he wasn't going to let on.

"Is that what I've done?" he returned dryly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You will forgive me if I don't throw up my hands and confess straight away, won't you?"

She smirked. "Ye never could lie well, could ye?"

He smirked back. "Your story is complete fantasy. You couldn't possibly have learned it from a reliable source. And to be frank, I hardly think you're in any position to be telling me all about myself, Cecily. In fact, I believe it was always you who so adamantly refused to learn anything about me, or to let me learn anything about you. When it comes right down to it, we're practically strangers. We know nothing about one another. And you certainly know nothing about where I've been or what I've done."

Cecily leaned closer to him, quirking her eyebrow. "Well, I know ye better than most, don't I, darling?" she returned, grinning coquettishly.

James lost their stare off. He rolled his eyes heavenward and looked away from her, crossing his arms in front of him. "I did a lot of things in Tortuga I'm not proud of," he replied, refusing to look at her.

"And yet the one thing ye've done that ye should be the most ashamed of was done right here, in Port Royal."

"You won't give it up, will you?"

"I told ye, I know what ye did."

"Has it occurred to you yet that you've completely split from reality in all its forms?"

He turned his back on her and returned to work on his sailboat.

She grabbed hold of the sailboat and jumped, hefting herself over the side and onboard his little boat. James started at the loud thump, spinning back around in surprise.

She marched directly up to him and poked a finger in his chest. "I know damn well what ye've done."

He swallowed again.

"Ye know it too," she pushed. "And ye hate yerself for it."

"Undoubtedly."

She ignored the sarcasm. "Is this really the life ye thought ye were getting back? Day after day, scraping and bowing be'ore a business man and a high class pouf, who uses dishonest means to worm his way into yer king's favor? Who takes over yer precious Navy and uses it to his own ends? This is the man that ye, a distinguished commodore of the royal Navy, are now going to play lapdog to? Ye hate playin' lapdog."

He dropped his eyes to the deck for only a moment, but it was a moment too long. "Ye hate yerself," she said again. "Ye wanted this job back, but not for all its money and power and distinction. Ye wanted to play hero. Ye wanted to be the noble Navy man again. Tell me, James, exactly what is so noble and honorable about the place ye've found yerself in?"

He stared at her. She stared back. The seconds ticked by as they stared silently, standing still under the clear blue sky.

James sighed. "What do you want from me?" he demanded.

"I want yer help," she replied simply. "I want ye to make right on what ye've done wrong. I want ye to help me get the heart back from Beckett so we can destroy it, and the ocean can be the place it used to be."

"No," James replied, and returned to his sailboat.

Her words were under his skin now, and try as he might he could not deny their accuracy. But he'd be damned if he'd help her. She was a pirate. A nasty one. And his days as a no account in Tortuga were over.

But Cecily did not take no for an answer. Ever. His back stiffened as he listened to the thud of her boots on the deck, coming up behind him. He turned to glower at her.

Then suddenly he tumbled to the floor of his skiff, courtesy of a well placed push to the chest. The damp of the deck soaked into his shirt as Cecily planted her knee in his ribs, her face two inches from his. "Yes," she replied calmly – far too calmly.

James snorted. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

Her cheeky grin made a short reappearance. "Is that a yes?"

"Hardly."

She cocked an eyebrow, leaning closer to his face. He rolled his eyes.

"Ye ever want to be free again?" she asked him.

His jaw tightened. He looked away.

"Ye're not gonna find that freedom on this sailboat, James. Ye're gonna have to go and get it back. Ye're gonna have to fight fer it. Ye're gonna have to get out from under Beckett's thumb."

"Ah, yes, I see it now. And the only way to do that is to go under your thumb instead?"

The grin was back, once again. The cheeky, presumptuous, yet flirtatious grin that James wished he didn't know so well. "Hardly, James. This is yer choice, darling. This is yer life yer takin' back. Ye're gonna do this fer ye."

"Oh, really?" Norrington replied skeptically, gesturing to the knee planted in his chest. Cecily merely smiled wider.

"Ye just needed a li'l convincin' mate. That's what I'm givin' ye. A li'l push in the right direction. Otherwise, ye'd just go and hide behind this pretty little sailboat of yers, and never take any risks at all. Ye're lucky ye have me, darling."

"Yet I remain unconvinced," he returned sarcastically. "So you want me to help you, but you want me to help you for me."

"Not at all, darling. I want ye to help me fer me. Fer me ocean. _Ye_ want to help me fer ye. Ye're not happy, James. And ye know this is the way out."

James glared at the pirate woman on top of him. He hated her. He hated her cheeky grin, he hated her presumption, he hated her entire lifestyle... and most importantly, he hated that she was right.

Lord Cutler Beckett was not an honorable man. He didn't care about right and wrong. He didn't care about the innocent people the Navy was meant to protect, and he didn't care about the king he'd sworn to serve.

And James Norrington did care about those things. He cared a lot.

Cecily grinned down at him, jostling him from his thoughts. "This remind ye of somethin'? Cause I'm getting' these feelings, darling."

James instantly pushed her off him and stood abruptly. Cecily didn't even bother to get off the deck. She just sat there and laughed, further incensing him.

"Fine," he snapped at her. "You got me, all right? I'm not happy."

"Of course ye aren't, darling. I told ye I knew what I was talkin' about."

"Stop calling me darling. You know I don't like it."

"I don't know about that, darling," Cecily whispered seductively, leaning forward and letting her arm hang over her bent knee. "Ye didn't seem to mind so much when we were riding that old mattress."

This was going to be a very difficult partnership if she continued rubbing that little mistake in his face. "And no mattress talk," Norrington said sternly.

Cecily laughed again. "All right, Norrington," she said, getting to her feet. "Ye got it. No sex references, and no sex. Strictly business."

"What business? I haven't even agreed to help you yet!"

"But ye're about to."

Silence.

James rolled his eyes. "Fine," he admitted grudgingly. "I'm agreeing to work with you."

"Knew it."

"But not to help you, understand. I don't trust Beckett."

"Of course ye don't."

"He doesn't care about anything but his company. He's interested in the bottom line: power and profit. And I am bloody tired of my Navy being used as his own personal enforcement squad. That is not what we were assembled to do."

She smirked. "Spoken like a true hero."

He ignored the mocking. "When this is over, given half the chance, I will not hesitate to hang you."

Her smirk broadened. "I shudder."

"I am doing this to remove Beckett from power, not to restore your perfect pirate's life. I am doing this for the better interest of the crown. For the people. And for the king."

She stepped closer to him. "Of course," she drawled, her cheeky grin as wide as it could go. "God save the King."

* * *

Nestled in a walled off cove on the opposite end of the city, where the shadows turned both the water and the air slightly colder and the light was considerably dim in comparison to the bright, blinding sunshine of the docks, the _Bloody Sunrise_ had weighed anchor and rolled her red sails up tight. The ship's captain had returned from her business ashore, and her crew had just finished hauling her longboat back up on deck.

It was impossible to miss or mistake the captain's companion. He was a tall man with an elegant posture and a long straight nose. More importantly, he wore a stiff white wig and a finely pressed blue jacket, identifying him at once as an officer of the British Navy.

Cecily had begged the man not to adorn the wig and coat before he followed her to her vessel. Sadyl, he'd insisted - most likely because he knew she hadn't wanted him to. As it was, she knew at once her crew was not happy. The suspicious looks directed Norrington's way and the skeptical glares being darted in her direction spelled that out loud and clear.

"Sandra," she said gruffly. "I want ye, Keith, and Marjorie in me office, now."

Sandra nodded her acquiescence, but her shoulders were stiff and her face tight. Cecily watched her first mate walk away, feeling a pang of guilt. She knew what needed to be done, she knew none of her crew approved, and even though she intended to carry on in spite of that, it still bothered her.

No captain wanted a mutiny on their hands.

Cecily opened the heavy wooden door with its curly black metalwork and led Norrington inside her dimly lit office. "Have a seat," she said, gesturing to one of the many mismatched chairs scattered around her large desk.

James waited until she'd seated herself behind the desk. Then he surveyed the office disdainfully, and chose the chair farthest away from her. He very pointedly took his seat.

Cecily threw her head back and laughed.

"Now, now, James, darling," she half snorted. "Ye can sit as far away as ye want, but it don't change how close ye once got."

"Oh, do shut up," Norrington snapped.

The two sat in silence as they waited for Cecily's chosen crewmen. Cecily pretended to be preoccupied with the parchments burying her desktop. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Norrington glancing around her office, his long, dignified nose crumpled with disapproval. It was all she could do to bite back another laugh. Cecily settled for a wry smirk hidden behind a sheet of parchment.

She supposed she couldn't blame the commodore for his disapproval. Her office was a far cry from his, she was sure. The walls were hung with odd little bits of art she'd picked up on her voyages – disfigured masks, twisted wood carvings, strange collages of feathers and bones and who knew what else. Her desk was not only littered with papers, but had also provided shelter for an odd assortment of trinkets, each one more bizarre and non-functional as the next. In one corner imposed a large Japanese screen, white and framed in black, with little flowers calligraphied on the delicate material. There was a rich red rug on the floor, obviously expensive – Cecily had stolen it from some Frenchman's quarters after raiding his ship – and her grin grew wider to see Norrington eye the discolored spots on the rug with concern. Red only hid blood until it browned, she thought ruefully. Then it was as obvious on red as any other color.

Her office door creaked open and Sandra entered, Keith and Marjorie tow. Marjorie, the ship's boatswain, greatly acknowledged to be Sandra's successor, was a tall woman with a large frame, curly dark hair and green-blue eyes. As she entered, her turquoise eyes fell on the commodore with disapproval, and Cecily felt the other woman's sense of betrayal. She could stand disapproval from any crewmember, she decided, other than Marjorie and Sandra.

"Sit down, sit down," Cecily said, gesturing at the chairs. They all took their seats. Cecily returned the parchment she'd been pretending to read back to the pile and propped her feet up on the desktop. "So, I guess ye all know the good commodore here. Say hello to James Norrington."

No one made a move to greet him. Keith, however, turned to his captain and said bitterly, "So this is why we came to Port Royal."

"Yep, darling," Cecily returned, determined to hold her temper as long as she could. "As ye can see, the map don't lie."

"So it works then?" he asked, still more bitterly.

"Aye, that it do, darling, that it do."

Norrington looked confused. Cecily intended to keep him that way.

"That still don't explain why ye were lookin' fer _this_ in the first place," Marjorie spat, inclining her head toward Norrington.

The atmosphere in the room was tense. That annoyed her. She was sure Norrington could see her crew was displeased with her. It was something he didn't need to see. And so, Cecily's patience cracked.

"_This_," Cecily growled. "Happens to be the only inside link we've got to Lord Beckett. He's very kindly agreed to help us with our mission, and I think ye better be referrin' to him as something other than 'this,' do I make meself clear?"

"As mud," Sandra snapped. "Nothing ye've done has made any sense at all for the past… I don't even know how long! First ye start rambling on about old wives' tales, than ye go out and buy that blasted map, and next thing we know, the bloody Commodore's on our pirate ship! What the bloody hell are ye doin', Cecily?"

"I told ye," Cecily snarled. "We're goin' after Lord Beckett. We're takin' back our ocean."

"Ah yes, right," Keith said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I remember now. Takin' back the ocean. By stealin' the heart of Davy Jones from Lord Beckett, because that's how he managed to capture all those famous pirates."

"Ye don't want to listen to me? Fine! Maybe ye'll listen to him!" Cecily shouted, gesturing at James.

He started and said nothing. Cecily rolled her eyes. "Well, go on, Norrington, fess up! What did ye do to get yer job back?"

Norrington stared at the planks of Cecily's office floor. "I met up with Jack Sparrow in Tortuga," he mumbled. "And joined the ranks of the _Pearl_."

Everyone hushed up.

"And ye all thought the man at the Faithful Bride was a liar," Cecily smirked. "I'm ashamed o' ye."

Her comment did nothing to shame Keith. "What then?" he demanded.

"Well… we went to an island where Sparrow claimed the heart of Davy Jones was buried… and then we dug up this chest…."

Norrington didn't seem to want to say anything else, but much to Cecily's amusement, Marjorie barked, "Well? What was in the chest?"

Norrington looked at the six pirates in front of him with grave sincerity. "A human heart. Still beating."

Keith snorted. "And a dose of fairy dust to go with it, I'd imagine."

Norrington glared at him.

Despite the quartermaster's sarcasm, Cecily saw Sandra and Marjorie's stern expressions fading, and quickly reclaimed her patience. She nodded at Norrington encouragingly. "Well, go on. What'd ye do with that heart?"

"Well, there wasn't much time to do anything with it at first," Norrington replied snottily. "Davy Jones' crew showed up on the island and started to attack."

"His crew?" Keith asked skeptically.

"Yes, that's right, that's what I said," Norrington snapped, finally losing his patience - which Cecily found quite funny, now that her own patience had returned. "Davy Jones' crew attacked. And Jack Sparrow attempted to hide the heart from them in a bloody jar of dirt. Imbecile."

"Surely ye've heard the legend, Norrington," Cecily interrupted. "Davy Jones can't step on land more than once every ten years. Perhaps the dirt wasn't quite as imbecilic as ye thought."

"No, it was," Norrington replied, his dislike of Captain Sparrow showing. "I stole the heart from the jar and ran off with it and the chest. While Jones' crew chased after me, the rest of Sparrow's crew ran away, Sparrow included. I tossed the chest at the crew members so they'd stop chasing me. It worked, and they allowed me to escape. What they didn't know is that I had hidden the heart inside my jacket. Once the pirates left the island, I rowed out to sea in a dinghy, waited for the Navy to pick me up and demanded to be taken to Lord Beckett. I knew he'd been looking for the heart."

He paused in his narrative. "And?" Cecily prompted impatiently. "Did they take ye to him?"

"Yes, but not willingly. I met with the man and offered him the heart in exchange for my old job and my old life back."

"And he agreed," Cecily finished for him. "And here ye are."

Norrington stared evenly at her. "Here I am."

Silence fell as the other five pirates in the room absorbed the commodore's tale. Cecily watched her crewmen with a confident smirk she didn't quite feel. Finally, her tense shoulders relaxed as the quiet crew members began to look regretful.

"Cecily, I'm sorry…." Keith started, but she interrupted him.

"Don't apologize. Ye were just lookin' out fer yer crew and yer ship. I understand that - it's yer job. But I've told ye before, there's such a thing as oversteppin' yer bounds just one too many times. Get me?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

She meant it. As infuriated as his second-guessing made her, Cecily valued Keith's input. He kept her honest – well, as honest as she could hope to be. He made sure her decisions affected everyone positively, not just herself. Without Keith… well, she'd become her own worst nightmare. She'd become the very man she was planning to destroy.

"Well," Norrington commented dryly from the corner. "Now that that's all cleared up…"

Cecily smirked at Norrington. "I'm afraid I need just a tad more information from ye."

Norrington sighed. "I expected so."

"Do ye have any idea where Lord Beckett is?"

"But Cap'n," Marjorie interrupted. "I thought…."

A look from the captain silenced her. "Well, Norrington?"

Norrington sighed and shook his head. "Believe me, if I did, I'd tell you, but I just don't know."

Cecily scrutinized him, checking for tell-tale signs of lies. It was rather frightening that she knew his tell-tale signs - she hadn't realized how much she knew about James Norrington before now, nor how much of that knowledge she'd retained. It was unsettling and she didn't care for it. But she pushed that displeasure aside and used the knowledge to her advantage... quickly concluding that he was actually telling the truth.

Knock her over with a bloody feather.

"How does he travel?" she asked.

Norrington frowned at her. "On a ship," he returned smartly, as though he thought Cecily was asking a stupid question.

"I know that, ye stupid git," she snapped. Nothing got under her skin like a smartass answer to a serious question. "I meant, does he travel with a convoy, alone, or what? How many troops does he bring with him? Ye know what I'm sayin', Norrington?"

Norrington glared at her. Apparently he didn't take so well to smart replies himself. "He travels in a convoy of about seven ships. Each ship has the standard number of soldiers and sailors on board."

Cecily frowned. "I see, seven ships." The number distressed her, but she tried not let it show. "Well, Norrington, I hate to ask, since questions seem to make ye so prickly and all, but how many men do ye know that aren't too happy with Lord Beckett either?"

He started at the question. A suspicious look crossed his face. "Oh, no," Norrington shook his head. "No. I am not going to commandeer any ships of the fleet, and I'm not going to sail off alongside a _pirate_ ship to fight a battle I won't win. You can just forget about that right now."

"That's where ye're wrong, Norrington," Cecily half growled. "Ye agreed to this! Ye said ye wanted…!"

"That was before I realized exactly what you had planned!" the commodore exploded. "You actually expect to sail headlong into battle, against Beckett and his seven ships? You must be insane!"

"Ye got any better ideas?"

"Any idea would be better than this! The man doesn't just outnumber us. He's also in possession of the bloody sea! He can turn the entire ocean against us!"

"Aye, well, that part is a bit of a conundrum," she agreed. "But as far as outnumbering us goes… well, there are ways to fix that."

"Like what? Build a pirate fleet?"

She grinned.

His jaw dropped. He shook his head incredulously. "We are not building a pirate fleet!"

"Speak for yerself."

"Do you even know six other captains crazy and stupid enough to go along with this?"

Cecily shrugged, smirking again. "Well… there's ye."

"I am not…!"

"And as far as pirates go, I've got a few connections."

"Oh, how bloody comforting!"

"And I suspect ye aren't the only Navy man pissed about becoming the East India Company's security task force."

"Tell me you do not expect…!"

"Aye, I most certainly do!" she interrupted fiercely. "Ye've got yerself a ship, don't ye Norrington? And ye got to have at least one other captain friend who hates Beckett the way ye do! As for crewmen, I'll bet ye know bloody well which ones will fight this fight and which ones won't. Ye can help us here, James. Ye can get me at the very least one ship – _yer_ ship. And if ye can get me two, well… I'll kiss ye."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Well, if that isn't the opposite of incentive…"

"Ye wound me," she cut him off, her tone oozing sarcasm. "Ye going to hold up yer end o' the deal or not?"

"Are you offering to let me walk? Because in that case…"

"Ye'll what? Run back to yer master and play lapdog fer the rest o' yer days?"

He glared at her, but fell silent.

She looked him dead in the eye. "Ye know damn well ye're coming with me. Kicking and screaming, maybe, but ye'll sail right into battle alongside this ship. Ye know, no matter what ye say, that ye want to be a part o' this battle.

"Oh, no, I most certainly do not!"

"Oh, aye, ye most certainly do!" Cecily returned. "And ye know why, Norrington? 'Cause if ye let me go off and kill Beckett and take back that heart while ye stay here and do nothing, ye'll never forgive yerself. Ye're not the sort to wait fer freedom to find ye. Ye want to go out and fight fer yer freedom. And ye're gonna."

Norrington glowered at the pirate woman, but said nothing. It was his silence that let Cecily know she'd won.

"There is one man," he spoke finally, his tone hesitant. "A captain. He was promoted shortly after my… hiatus from duty. When he was a lieutenant, we worked closely together and became friends. His name is Theodore Groves. He too does not… entirely approve of Lord Beckett's… policies."

"And would he be willing to help?" Cecily asked.

"I believe he would, yes. His ship, along with my _Dauntless_, should be a good start to the fleet I assume you'll be trying to build."

"And between the two of ye, do ye have enough men more loyal to ye than Beckett in order to man yer ships?"

"Most of the men who serve on my ship worked with me prior to my… short break from service."

"I reiterate," Cecily growled. "Do ye have enough men between the two of ye more loyal to ye than Beckett in order to man yer ships?"

"The majority of men on my ship are also not exactly happy with Lord Beckett's… way of running things. As for the ones who remain loyal to Beckett, I know a few men _not_ on my ship who feel as I do and who would be happy to take their places."

"And how do ye plan to get rid of the men who _do _remain loyal to Beckett?"

"Well," Norrington replied, looking straight at her with a hint of smile about his lips. "I was hoping you might be of some service in that department."

A grin crossed Cecily's face as well. "Why, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

"Not _kill_ them, mind you," Norrington was quick to add, and quite sternly at that.

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Oh, ye suck the fun right out o' everything," she complained.

Norrington shrugged.

Cecily became serious again. "And this Groves man. He has enough men to man his ship as well?"

"I can't say," Norrington replied. "You'll have to ask him that."

"Fine," Cecily agreed. "Ye and him will meet back here tonight. Ye will come alone, understand? I don't want to see no body guards or anybody; I don't care how loyal ye think they are. Just ye and Groves, get me? Meet me here tonight so I can talk to the man."

"That is acceptable," Norrington returned rather stiffly.

"And loosen up," Cecily ordered.

"I'd prefer to keep this arrangement as business like as possible. I see no need for us to be overly friendly."

"Funny. Ye sang a different tune during all the hot sex," Cecily grinned viciously.

Norrington stood up. "Good day, Captain O'Connor," he said, making a quick exit. Cecily laughed at his retreating back.

"Oh, Norrington! Tonight, remember? Be there!" she called after him.

"As you wish," he replied before leaving entirely.

She smirked after him, watching him disappear out her office door.

This was going to be dangerous, yes. Possibly fatal, and yet it was definitely going to be fun.


	3. The Night We Met

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

Rating: M

P.S: Thanks for the positive reviews, you guys! (And by "you guys," I mean all two of you). Reading your reviews made my day.

* * *

Chapter 3: The Night We Met

_Tortuga, one year earlier..._

James Norrington swallowed a large gulp of his rum. He sat the mug down on the counter, glaring at it as though his circumstances were somehow the fault of the amber liquid. All around him echoed the drunken laughter and shouting of the bar patrons, but he could barely hear them through his self-pitying drunken stupor.

Cast out of the Navy to which he'd devoted his life. Drunk and poverty-stricken in Tortuga. Living in the gutter, covered in mud, his fine clothes and wig in rags.

"Why the long face, darling?" an Irish lilt sang in his ear.

He looked up, surprised. Two inches from his nose was the loveliest face he'd seen in a long time.

A delicate nose. Dark, swampy green eyes. Softly tanned skin. All framed by long, dust blonde hair. He blinked. The face grinned at him.

"Captain Cecily O'Connor," she drawled, holding out her hand as if expecting to shake.

James didn't take her hand. "Captain?" he inquired, mildly surprised.

"Aye, that's right. Captain."

He took in the rest of her now. There was a scarf tied around her head. She wore pants and knee high boots. Her shapely hips were made all the more noticeable because of it, but her baggy shirt did her breasts no justice.

It became all too clear what sort of woman he was dealing with. James smirked. "You're a pirate," he said.

"Pirate _captain,_" she returned, finger landing on the tip of his nose for emphasis.

Frowning, he leaned away from her. "Yes, pirate captain," he agreed in a snarky tone. "Pleasure."

He turned back to his rum. She leaned in closer to him, her lips beside his ear. Her breath tickled him as she whispered, "Come now, darling. Say it like ye mean it."

James knew all too well what was happening. A female pirate – a captain, as she fancied herself – had stopped in Tortuga on shore leave. She'd had a little to drink, and now she was trying to lure him in between her sheets. He almost laughed. Woman or not, it didn't seem to matter when it came to pirates. She was a sailor, through and through, looking for food and drink and pleasurable company.

And while it was absurd and even demeaning, it was exciting too. She was a beautiful sailor, he'd grant her that. The way her breath tickled his ear had already caused a pleasant discomfort in his trousers. James was tempted – for a moment. He blamed the fleeting temptation entirely on his intoxication.

He looked her in the eye with a dry, sarcastic smile and an arrogant tilt to his chin. "But I don't," he said.

Captain Cecily O'Connor was not offended. She merely smirked at him. "Ye object to pirates, do ye?"

"I'd say most people do," James returned snottily.

She snorted. "Maybe in other places," she informed him. "But here in Tortuga, we're often regaled as heroes." She glanced around the pub almost furtively and then leaned into him once again. "I'd say ye might be in the wrong place, darling."

James snorted back. "Yes, heroes," he retorted. "I'm so sure. Well, I'll admit you're right on one score, _Captain_. I certainly don't belong here."

The coy grin had entirely disappeared. She narrowed her eyes, expression cold, and leaned in close to his ear. The smile returned, but in a warped, sarcastic form. And then she laughed.

James blinked in surprise. "Ye think ye're shite don't stink?" she asked, her expression amused and yet somehow dangerous. "Aw, now, that's adorable."

"I beg your pardon?" James asked, starting to get offended.

"Oh come now," she whispered. "Ye're a drunkard, darling – and by the looks o' it, a _Navy_ drunkard." Here she playfully tugged the lapels of his blue coat. "Ex Navy, I'm sure. And while I may be a pirate, I'm also a captain. Who's on the higher end o' society now?"

He stared at her, suddenly without retort. She smirked again. "Not sayin' I don't like me drink every now and then," she added. "Maybe I can be a bit o' a drunkard too. But I ain't a disgraced one at that."

She continued smirking at him, leaning against the bar. Her gaze prickled at James' skin, and he felt his remaining dignity slipping away. Something had to be done to regain it.

"If you're _quite_ done," he said, returning to his rum. "Then I suggest you take your so-called _charms_ and work them elsewhere. I'm hardly in the mood."

She shrugged, clearly not bothered by his rejection. "Can't fix what's willingly broke," she announced. "I ain't lookin' to sleep with no eunuchs anyway."

James whipped his head back around, looking up from his rum in indignation. "I beg your pardon?"

But she was ignoring him now. She turned away from him and made her way back across the bar, headed for a couple other women, all of whom looked rather piratey as well.

And once again, James returned to his drink.

"What you's doin' here?"

The new voice in James' ear wound up belonging to a smelly, skinny, rat-faced pirate man who made a point of invading James' personal space while fingering his sword. Behind him stood a bald, suntanned, large-muscled giant of a man with his huge arms crossed in front of his even larger chest.

"My Lord," James announced. "What have they been feeding _you_?"

The large man glowered, but said nothing. His rat-faced companion spoke again. "We don't take too kindly to the likes of ye in these parts," he said. "People like ye? Ye ruinin' the neighborhood. We expect a better class of people round here."

James gave both Rat Face and his beefy friend an appraising look, and then snorted. "A better class of people?" he inquired. "You _must_ be joking."

"Was that sarcasm?" Rat Face asked. "We don't take too kindly to sarcasm either."

"Really?" James retorted. "I'm just impressed you know the word."

Rat Face drew his sword violently, swinging at James' head. James ducked and leapt off his barstool, whipping out his own sword. Drunk and wobbly as he was, he fell instinctively into a strong, defensive stance, compliments of years of military training.

"Ye'll rue the day ye spoke those words to me!" the pirate shouted. "Not a man in this pub wants a commodore dirtying up these seats! We stay out of the Navy's hair, and ye'd do best to stay out of ours!"

And with that, Rat Face charged. James stepped out of the way, and the pirate flew into the bar. This served to only further enrage him and he charged James again, sword flying. James blocked and parried away his thrusts, holding his own valiantly as the two of them circled the small space in front of the bar – a space that the drunken patrons of the establishment had been so good as to clear, hungry and drooling to see some bloodshed.

James was winning… until the giant joined in. Then the giant was joined by two other medium-sized men who had brought swords of their own. Suddenly, James found himself backed up against the bar and greatly outnumbered.

Rat Face knocked the sword from the ex-Commodore's hand. James' back hit a barstool. The pirate cornered him, sword pointed at his chest. James tottered slightly, the exercise having increased his drunken state, and eyed the sword ironically. He smirked at the pirate in front of him, unbothered by the threat on his life. His life was nothing to miss, really, and James wasn't sure he was all that afraid of death.

He gestured at the sword, cocking an eyebrow, daring the man to get it over with and stab him already. The pirate frowned, confused by the reaction. He hesitated.

"Shame on ye all," that same Irish brogue from earlier announced behind his attackers. "Pickin' on a poor, disgraced Navy man like that."

The men turned away from him and turned on Captain Cecily O'Connor. She was flanked by her two female comrades, as well as two men. James's attackers faltered, lowering their swords.

The pirate captain gave the small gang an unfriendly smirk. "Put up yer swords lads," she drawled. "Or ye'll be gettin' a taste o' yer own medicine. Try yer hands against all six o' us, the good commodore included, and see if ye still like yer odds."

Rat Face glowered at her. "O'Connor," he spat. "Ye takin' an interest in this pathetic excuse fer a man?"

"Aye, that I am," she replied smoothly.

"And is there any particular reason ye're protectin' this trash?"

She shrugged and smirked again, leaning in closer to the skinny pirate man. "Ye know what they say, lad: one man's trash is another man's treasure."

Rat Face snorted. He stared down the pirate woman for a little while. She stared back, still smirking. James thought she was laughing at the man. Finally, the pirate man walked away, beckoning his friends to join him.

Once they had left, Captain O'Connor gave her own men the nod, and they dispersed as well. James was still leaning against the bar, and now he met her eyes, lifting his brow inquisitively. She advanced on him, stopping inches from his chest, and lifted her leg, balancing her boot on the nearest barstool.

"Ye're welcome," she drawled.

He smirked down at the considerably shorter woman. "Thank you, I suppose."

She grinned back. Her fingers traveled up and down his lapel. "What's yer name, darling?"

He smiled in spite of himself. "James Norrington."

"James Norrington," she repeated. "I like it."

"As do I," he returned.

Her grin became less seductive and more amused. "Ye know," she said almost conversationally. "One might say ye owe me now."

"One might say that, yes."

Now her smile spread out wide across her face, and James decided it looked rather wicked.

"Ye can start payin' me off by buyin' me a drink."

* * *

_Present Day..._

On the same sunny day that found the commodore of the Royal Navy down at the docks, conversing with one of the more renowned pirate captains of the Caribbean, newly-promoted Captain Theodore Groves sat behind his heavy mahogany desk at the port's huge stone fort, frowning at a letter he had just received the moment before. He was impervious to all distractions – not the gulls crying outside his open window, or the light breeze rustling the papers in his office, or even the beginning of an already beautiful sunset that was streaking the sky and sea with pink and gold, could break his concentration.

He wore his tri-corner Navy hat tipped low over his suntanned face, as though he were _trying_ to block out the rest of the world. If that were indeed his intention, he'd accomplished his goal. But even as he frowned, his starched white wig was worn with an ease and carelessness that most men did not possess, and he leaned back comfortably in his chair, his boot perched on his knee.

In three days time, according to the letter, Captain Theodore Groves was to set sail for Nassau and take out a pirate ship there. He'd be met by several other ships to seal the pirate's fate. Exactly how Beckett had found this ship was unclear to Groves, as the pirate listed as captain had been wanted for several years and yet always managed to evade authorities.

The order was to leave precisely at the date specified and to be prepared for serious battle. Captain Groves couldn't help it: he wasn't thrilled about the assignment.

Yes, it was his job to capture pirates, this was true. He was supposed to drop them in a hail of gunfire or, if he was lucky and they surrendered, deliver them to the noose. But ever since Lord Beckett had taken over, Groves was finding less and less honor in his chosen career. He hadn't quite figured it out yet, but Beckett had an unfair advantage somehow, and Groves wasn't sure he was comfortable with that. As the times grew bleaker for the pirates, Groves found it more and more difficult to find any humor in the world around him.

He sighed, and put the orders down on his desk. Part of him was ready to not carry them out.

"Good afternoon, Theodore."

The familiar voice shook Groves out of his thoughts. He looked up with a smile. "Hello, Commodore," he greeted his superior. "Your day off treating you well, I expect?"

"Not as well as I had hoped," James Norrington replied truthfully. "Although, it is promising in its own way."

Groves grinned. "Care to be any less cryptic, James? I'm not quite deep enough to decipher all that."

Norrington offered his own, weak smile. "I see you've gotten your orders from Beckett. Leaving anytime soon?"

"Three days," Groves announced with the air of one resigned to his unhappy fate. "I tell you, James, that man is insufferable. I know he's helped the Navy catch more pirates than it's ever caught before, during any time throughout history, but I just can't like the man. Honestly, I'm starting to pity the pirates."

"I know what you mean," Norrington replied. He took a deep breath and straightened his coat nervously. Groves watched him fold his hands behind his back and walk towards the window, his eyes fixed on some distant spot on the ocean. Immediately, he knew something was troubling the Commodore. "I can't help but feel personally responsible for the recent turn things have taken in the Navy."

Groves hadn't expected good news, but this threw him none the less. "You?" he asked. "Personally responsible? How could that be?"

"Well…." Norrington hesitated. "Do you ever get the feeling that Lord Beckett has some unfair advantage over the pirates we've been catching? That he's hiding something from the rest of us?"

"You know, it's funny you should mention that," Groves chuckled. "But I was just thinking that very same thing! Although, I suppose it's all nonsense, right? What advantage could Lord Beckett _possibly_ have…?" Groves trailed off, noticing the expression on his friend's face. "James? Are you all right?"

Norrington sighed. "Not entirely."

"What is it?" Groves asked in concern. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Yes," Norrington said heavily. "Yes, there is indeed."

* * *

Cecily chewed the inside of her mouth, frowning down at her newly acquired map. She was sitting with her feet propped up on her desk, clutching a handful of nails, and intending to test out the more paranormal qualities of her latest possession.

Mostly though, she was sitting, staring, and worrying.

Then the door creaked open and Sandra entered the office.

"The Commodore and Captain Groves here to see ye, Cap'n," she announced.

Cecily instantly dropped the nails into a small, rusty tin on her desktop. She folded up her map and tossed it inside her desk. "Send them in," she ordered.

Commodore Norrington and his old friend entered her office and Sandra disappeared, shutting the door softly behind her. Cecily took one look at her visitors and almost laughed. The expression on the newcomer's face was priceless. His lips were permanently parted, and his soft, very attractive brown eyes were wide open as he gawked at his surroundings. The poor lad was in shock. Cecily suspected he hadn't really believed whatever James had told him before taking him on board her ship.

She hid a small, amused smile. This was going to be fun.

"Well, 'ello there, Norrington," she drawled, stretching and leaning back casually in her chair. "This yer friend?"

"Yes, Captain O'Connor," Norrington replied stiffly. "This is Captain Theodore Groves. Theodore, this is Captain Cecily O'Connor."

"Please," she added with a rakish grin. "Just call me Cap'n."

Norrington rolled his eyes. Groves said nothing. Cecily suspected the shock hadn't worn off yet. Understandable, of course. She truly sympathized. It must be mind-boggling for the young Navy officer, sitting on board a famous pirate ship, having an audience with a famous pirate captain, and yet not arresting anyone.

"Well? What are ye, animals? Sit down, sit down."

The two Navy officers took their seats. Cecily took the moment to give Captain Groves a good once over. He was a striking young man, she decided. Tall and muscular and heavily suntanned – he was never rich; she could tell. Somehow, he made his stiff Navy uniform and starched white wig look casual, which was quite a feat. Norrington certainly couldn't pull off casual in his commodore's get up. Hell, Norrington could barely look casual lying drunk in the gutter, splattered with mud.

But that wasn't what truly caught her eye. There was just something about those big brown eyes – puppy eyes. Cecily couldn't help the smile spreading slowly across her face. What an addition to the convoy he'd be.

"I assume the good commodore o'er here has filled ye in on the situation, eh Ted?" she asked cheekily. "Ye don't mind if I call ye Ted, do ye Ted? Nah, o' course ye don't."

Groves opened his mouth, undoubtedly to protest the short version of his name, but Cecily cut him off.

"Well, Norrington? Did ye fill him in or not?"

"Of course I explained things to him," James snapped. "Would he be here if I hadn't?"

"I don't know," Cecily returned. "Don't really know ol' Ted that well, do I?" She grinned suggestively at the attractive young officer. "Although, I'm not entirely opposed to remedying that. Ye up fer it, Ted?"

The young man's big, dark brown eyes widened in shock at the pirate woman's lack of decency. Cecily laughed. Norrington sighed, obviously exasperated.

"Captain O'Connor, Captain Groves is a respected Navy officer," Norrington announced snottily. "He is here strictly on business matters, and you will do well to remember that. I can assure you he is not interested in jeopardizing his good standing, and good health for that matter, by engaging in one of your trysts."

Tryst. One of her trysts. Something Norrington knew all about. He'd actually been the tryst to coin the term. Cecily turned to him, still grinning, and wanting desperately to laugh. "So what am I to do then, James? Wait fer him to get thrown out o' the Navy and go off to Tortuga to drown his sorrows in bottle after bottle of gin and rum and who knows what else, and then pounce on him when he's two drinks away from lyin' in the gutter?"

Norrington turned rather red. She kept right on grinning. Suddenly, everything became clear for Ted. Cecily could see the light go on over his head. He stared at James like he was an entirely different person. "You _slept_ with this woman, James?" he asked incredulously.

Norrington hung his head in shame. Cecily frowned. His good opinion mattered little to her, but his obvious regret at their short lived fling still poked a hole, no matter how minuscule, in her self esteem. Still, it did amuse her to see the Commodore squirm. "It was a mistake, Theodore. I was drunk, and I was jobless. I told you, I did many things in Tortuga I'm not proud of. This is probably one of the worst, however."

"Hardly," Cecily couldn't help but add. "I believe ye told me I was the best. Each and every time. And the worst thing ye've ever done was _definitely_ handing that heart o'er to Lord Beckett."

Captain Groves shook his head sadly. "I still have trouble believing you did that, James."

"Aye, but he only told ye today," Cecily put in, thoroughly enjoying herself. "Give it a few days. It'll sink in."

"I was desperate, Theodore," Norrington replied, ignoring Cecily. He sounded so apologetic that Cecily decided to cut him a little slack and change the subject to the more important matters at hand.

"Well enough o' this get to know one another shite," she announced. "Let's get on topic, shall we? I'm lookin' to get that heart back from Beckett, and I'm lookin' fer yer assistance. What do ye say, Captain Groves? Do ye have the men and the resources, not to mention the balls, to sail yer ship alongside mine and the commodore's and take back the Caribbean?"

"We'll need more than three ships to take on Beckett's eight," Groves returned.

"Eight?" Cecily's Irish brogue and Norrington's stuffy British accent rang out as one, both equally shocked.

"I thought there were only seven in his convoy," Norrington said in displeased surprise.

"He added the eighth only recently," Groves explained.

Cecily looked even more worried now. "With yer two ships, I can get together enough pirates to make a seven ship fleet," she announced. "But we'll still be one ship short."

"I don't know anyone else who'd be willing to assist us," Groves said apologetically.

"Nor I," added Norrington.

"No one?' Cecily asked, eyeing them both suspiciously. She did her best to hide the desperation quickly filling her chest.

"No one whose loyalty I can be sure of," Norrington returned. "And I'd rather sail one ship short of eight than sail with a spy."

"O' course, o' course ye're right," Cecily murmured. "I agree." She quickly returned to her cheeky self, hoping neither Norrington nor Groves had witnessed the change. "Well, perhaps one o' me connections will have a connection o' their own," she said with a grin. "So? What do ye say, Ted ol' boy? Ye willin' to take the risk?"

The young captain looked grave, but determined. "Of course I am," he said without a waver in his voice. "No one deserves that much power over anything or anyone. Beckett has to be stopped."

Cecily gave him a hard, searching look. A grin once again crossed her face. "Ye're one o' them hero types, aren't ye?" she asked. "Always doin' what's best fer mankind, not yerself." When he made no comment, her grin widened. "Ne'er did care much fer heroes meself."

"Funny you would say that," Groves returned. "Seeing as you've willing volunteered to be one."

She hadn't expected that response. Cecily stared at him, surprised yet impressed.

"I like this one," she announced. "He's got backbone. Maybe ye should be takin' notes, Norrington."

Norrington rolled his eyes.

"When can ye be ready to sail?" she asked.

"I was in the midst of preparing to sail to Nassau," Groves announced. "We were going to leave in three days time. There was a pirate ship there that Beckett wanted attacked."

"Pirate ship?" Cecily asked with interest. "What pirate ship?"

"It was called _Fate's Plaything_. Strange name, but it _is_ a pirate ship. It's captained by…."

"Captain Skip Worchester," Cecily interrupted, panic tightening her chest.

"Do you know him?" Groves inquired.

"Aye," she replied. "He's one o' me connections. Ye'd best be preparin' through the night, Captain Groves. We leave tomorrow."


	4. Meet Skip Worchester

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

AN: Another thank you to my reviewers, Queen of the Red Skittle and ohbugger7. Nice to hear from you again!

* * *

Chapter 4: Meet Skip Worchester

Cecily stood at the helm of the _Sunrise_, looking quite stern-faced for someone who'd experienced such success the night before. Her crew and her new allies had quickly and quietly removed all the men loyal to Beckett from Norrington's _Dauntless_ and Groves' _Gallant_, with no injuries on either side. Then the two Navy ships and their pirate accomplice had left before dawn, hoping to be long gone before the soldiers could be released from the Port Royal prison and able to stir up trouble. Everything had gone according to plan, and the three ships had put more than enough distance between them and Port Royal by now.

Surprisingly, this first step had been easy. But Cecily knew better than to expect more smooth sailing ahead.

The ships had been at sea for half the day when Cecily finally handed the helm over to Sandra and retreated to her office. Once inside, she opened her desk drawer and removed her map. She unfolded it with a shake and spread it out on the desk top, drawing a handful of nails from a nearby tin. Fingering the nails thoughtfully, she took her seat and swung her legs on top of her desk, careful to avoid the map with her boots. She drew a single nail from the collection in her left hand and held it, point down, over the yellowed parchment.

"The _Fate's Plaything_," she said quietly but clearly, letting the nail drop.

The nail's point stuck in the parchment and the desk underneath it. Sure enough, the nail had landed on Nassau.

She grinned slightly. It'd be good to see Skip again. It would be even better to know she'd saved him from Lord Beckett's forces, and therefore could make him do anything she wanted.

Not that she thought Skip would decline her offer to go save the sea. He wasn't exactly honorable or anything, but he was always up for a fight. He lived for the fight, actually. That was part of the reason she'd been drawn to him in the first place.

With a sigh, she held a second nail above the map, once again point down. "The _Sea Bird,_" she annunciated, dropping the nail.

It hit the map and stuck like the one before it, several miles off the west shore of Barbados. She selected a third nail and repeated the process, saying "The _Heartless Maiden_."

The nail stuck in a spot well off the Caribbean coast of Nicaragua. Cecily cursed. She was doing this the hard way, apparently. She should be tracking down the _Heartless Maiden_ first, not Worchester. That lucky bastard. He should fall down on his knees and thank whatever he prayed to that he had a woman who'd traipse across the Caribbean to save him from the Royal Navy, even if it did extremely inconvenience her. The things she did for the man.

She sighed. She wished she could send James and Ted after some of her connections, save some time, but she knew that would never work. They were the bloody Navy, after all, and as far as she knew, she was the only pirate daft enough to trust anyone from the Navy. Of course, she could disguise them as pirates if she needed to, but these men had serious trust issues, and probably wouldn't believe Norrington and Groves even if they _did_ shed their blue coats. Damn her luck.

A fourth nail was selected, and Cecily wet her lips with anticipation. This was the captain she'd been looking forward to finding more than anyone else. Captain Tanner Hartford had always been her favorite.

"The _Savage Beauty_," she whispered, letting the nail fall.

The nail stuck not far off the north coast of Trinidad. Cecily frowned. Tanner's ship was awfully far away. Was he running?

It wasn't entirely implausible. Tanner had always been the more intelligent of the four captains she was tracking. She was sure he'd picked up on the threat in the Caribbean. And he had always been far more concerned about himself than anything or anyone else. Was he running away?

"Coward," she spat.

There was no doubt in her mind that running was precisely what he was doing. No amount of talking to herself would persuade her otherwise. No suggestions like 'Maybe he has business in Trinidad,' or 'Perhaps he's sailing north, not south,' would allow her to doubt his intention to escape the Caribbean. Well, he wasn't going anywhere, not if she had anything to say about it. She would track the self-preserving bastard down and _make_ him help her.

With a frustrated sigh, Cecily rubbed her aching temples and determined not to worry about Tanner for the moment. Instead, she selected a fifth nail and held it high over the map.

"Lord Cutler Beckett," she said into the empty room.

The nail dropped from her fingers and landed in the mystical map before her. It stuck just off the coast of the Virgin Islands. Undoubtedly, the crazy bastard was headed for Nassau.

Cecily grunted with displeasure. She had to beat him there, and she had to be gone long before he came to port. Currently, she was in no way prepared to meet Beckett face to face. And yes, she may have had three days on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't planning to get to Nassau before his recruits in order to watch their attack and ensure their loyalty or their usefulness. It was time to speed up.

* * *

The sun glinted off the clear blue-green water, and the island nearly glittered. Despite this, Cecily could see gray clouds gathering behind the island and wondered if they were in for a storm. She also began to wonder if the heart of Davy Jones allowed one to control the weather at sea.

As she'd expected, the harbor held no trace of the _Fate's Plaything_. Skip was no fool. She directed her ship around the island, careful to keep her distance. As she rounded the landmass, she saw a ship floating off shore, just far enough away to be unrecognizable. Cecily took out her spyglass and had a look. The ship was painted a very dark blue and had dropped its crisp white sails. Across the hull, she made out the words: _Fate's Plaything_.

A grin crossed her face. Skip was in town.

She ordered her crew to get as close to the ship as they could, taking the helm herself. Behind her, she saw the _Dauntless_ and the _Gallant_ following close behind. In no time, the _Sunrise_ had dropped anchor close beside the _Plaything_. The few crew members left on board to guard the _Plaything _waved excitedly, recognizing the ship and its captain. They knew the _Sunrise_ offered no threat.

"Requestin' permission to board!" Sandra called across to the _Plaything's_ first mate.

The first mate signaled his agreement. Cecily's crew set up planks to allow her – and whoever she chose to accompany her – to board the second pirate ship.

And, although she tried desperately to ignore it, there was no denying that the thumping and splashing and general outcry ringing out behind her came from the _Dauntless_ and the _Gallant_ preparing to board her own ship. It seemed the good commodore and his dear friend the captain didn't want to be left out of the fun.

The boarding planks had been laid down and secured. Cecily eyed the crewmen milling around the side of her ship, calling out greetings to the few sailors left on the _Plaything_.There was no reason to dawdle where she stood… the ally ship was prepared to be boarded. Nothing was stopping her, nothing but the knowledge that Norrington and Groves were boarding her ship, determined to be in on negotiations with the prospective new addition to their fleet. And so, with her eyes fixed on Skip's ship and her hands clasped behind her back, Cecily waited for the two men to board her ship with an air of both annoyance and amused acceptance.

She heard their footsteps fast approaching her from behind. "Aye?" she asked by way of greeting when she heard them stop directly at her back, not bothering to face them.

"You don't really expect us to just sit idly by while you negotiate with this other captain, do you?" Norrington answered her unspoken question. Cecily felt a small smile tug at her lips. He was so predictable. "We're a part of this fleet as well, and we deserve to be treated as equals."

"But ye're not equals," Cecily rebuffed him, whirling around to face him with narrowed eyes, as if presenting some kind of challenge to Norrington.

He took it. "Actually," Norrington began tightly, but his friend interrupted.

"Whether we are equals or not is beside the point," Captain Groves announced. "We are still members of the fleet, and we need to know what is going on. Otherwise, mistakes will be made and people will die."

Mistakes will be made? People will die? Oh, he was good, this Captain Groves. Ballsy, too. Cecily eyed him with respect. She was actually starting to quite like Groves. He really wasn't so bad for a Navy man. And he certainly had way more backbone than James had ever had. "Wee bit melodramatic, eh Teddy?" she returned cagily.

Ted shrugged. Despite the gravity of the subject matter, he continued talking casually and unconcernedly as though chatting about the weather. "At this point, maybe. But we can't let this become a habit, can we? Or otherwise, my somewhat over the top statement may come true."

Yes, he was very good, with brains to match the looks. More than just a pretty face, wasn't he? Cecily nodded her agreement. "Well, come along then," she shrugged, as though the affair meant very little to her. She turned her back on them and headed for the boarding plank. Seconds later, she heard them follow.

Cecily nodded at Sandra and Keith as she passed by them, and they joined the ranks behind Norrington and Groves. Captain O'Connor stepped up on the plank and boarded the _Fate's Plaything._

A wiry man, barely a few inches taller than Cecily, walked up to greet her as she stepped down off the plank. He had huge, frizzy brown hair, with a matching beard and moustache. Small silver spectacles sat on his nose. He grasped Cecily's hand with his own and shook it heartily. "Captain O'Connor!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "We haven't seen ye in a long time, eh? Thought ye were ne'er comin' back."

Cecily smiled. "Aw, now, Gil, ye know I'd ne'er desert ye."

"Or me captain, eh?"

Cecily grinned with mock sheepishness and shrugged as though caught. "Guilty."

"Well, Captain Worchester's land bound at the moment, Captain O'Connor. What's the nature of yer business?"

Instead of answering, Cecily asked, "When is the captain due back?"

"Another fifteen minutes or so, Captain O'Connor."

Cecily grinned at him. "Gil, darling, call me Cecily. Ye always used to."

Gil grinned back. "Aye, I just figured I'd try to show ye a li'l more respect than usual, s'all. Cecily."

"Well, I shall await yer captain's return in his office, aye? Me associates will join me. Only, o' course, if that is satisfactory to ye, darling."

She grinned at him flirtatiously. Gil smirked. He was no fool. "Of course, Cecily. Be a nice surprise fer the Cap'n."

That's when he noticed the company she was in. Gil suddenly frowned behind her at the two Navy men. At Cecily's request, they'd removed their wigs and their Navy uniforms, and dressed in normal sailor's wear. However, they still appeared too clean, well-shaven, and elegant to be pirates. Therefore, Gil was suspicious, and Cecily could hardly blame him. "Well, now," he murmured. "I remember Sandra and Keith, but these two escape me."

"That's 'cause ye ne'er met 'em be'ore," Cecily returned without missing a beat. "Gil, meet James Norrington and Theodore Groves."

Immediately, Gil drew back as though bitten, glaring at Norrington. "He's the bloody Commodore, Cecily! What the hell are ye doin'?"

"Forgin' alliances where necessary," Cecily replied. "Sea's not the same as she used to be, Gil. Got to dirty me hands a bit, ye know, if I want to survive."

Gil frowned. "And the other one?"

"A captain, Gil. And aye, of the Navy as well."

His frown deepened. "Cap'n won't like that," he announced.

"I don't expect him to," Cecily said. "But like I said, Gil. Times like these, it's necessary to dirty the hands a bit."

Behind her, she could hear Norrington huffing every time she mentioned dirtying her hands. She ignored him. Gil, with a tact most pirates didn't possess, ignored him as well.

He sighed heavily. "All right, Cecily. Under normal circumstances, this just wouldn't fly, but we know ye... just don't make me regret this."

"Ne'er happen, Gil," Cecily replied with a smile.

Gil led the way to the captain's quarters.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Captain Skip Worchester clambered back aboard his ship, a mixture of confusion, anger, and delight all on his face at once. His crew began hauling his longboat back aboard, and Skip marched over to his first mate, who was regarding him with something like eagerness, but more like anxiety.

"Gil," he greeted him roughly in his street accent. "Is that Cecily's ship next to mine?"

"Ye know it is, Cap'n," Gil returned, trying not to sound nervous. "Red sails, only her, ye know."

Skip recognized at once that Gil was babbling as he often did in confrontational situations… and that could only mean something bad. "And the other ships?" he demanded.

Gil looked at his captain with an expression that seemed to beg for mercy. Captain Worchester narrowed his big, dark brown eyes. "They're Navy, Cap'n."

Skip glowered at is first mate. "_Navy?_"

"Aye, Cap'n. Captain O'Connor brought 'em with her. Wasn't exactly clear on why. Ye know how she is, all cryptic and such..."

"Where is she?" the captain demanded.

"Yer office, sir..."

Worchester stormed towards his quarters, looking irate. Gil breathed a sigh of relief, glad his captain's irrational anger was directed at someone else for a change. If anyone could handle Skip Worchester when he was furious, it was Cecily O'Connor.

* * *

Cecily sat in Skip's ornate desk chair, leaning back comfortably against the brown leather upholstery that was riveted into the chair's dark, rich wood frame. Her feet were propped up on his heavy cherry desk. Sandra sat perched on beside Cecily's boots and Keith stood tall behind the two women, like some kind of guardian gargoyle. The bright Caribbean sun streamed in all around him through the wall of warped glass windows at his back. Norrington stood at attention in a dark corner of the room, and Groves stood beside him, looking very nervous.

The door flew open, slamming into the wall. Welcome sunshine streamed into the too dark room, but it was nowhere near enough to lighten their surroundings. A tall, extremely thin man stood framed in the doorway, an angry expression on his rather pretty face. Handsome was the wrong word: no, this man was pretty. In fact, if it weren't for the painfully obvious five o clock shadow on his face, he probably could have passed for a woman if the need arose. A scrap of dark blue cloth was tied around his head, underneath the waves of rather short chestnut brown hair. He wore mostly black, with a dark blue jacket over top of everything else. He seemed to tower over everything and everyone, his scrawny stature somehow filling up the doorway despite all evidence that his filling up anything was quite impossible.

"Cecily!" he growled into the room. "Care to explain to me _why_ the bloody Navy's next door to me ship?"

Cecily didn't move from her seat, but extended her arms as though expecting a hug. "Skip!" she exclaimed, a huge smile on her face. "How I missed ye, darling!"

Skip stalked over to his desk and leaned on it, shoving his face in hers. "I asked ye a question, O'Connor," he snarled.

"And ye'll get yer answer when I get me greetin', Worchester," she snarled right back.

Skip swore. The woman was maddening. It was extremely hard to intimidate someone who wasn't even remotely afraid of you, especially when you're used to scaring the hell out of everyone. He glowered at her, but Cecily just smirked back. Finally, he grunted and rolled his eyes. "Hello, Cecily. It's been a while."

"Aye, it has, Skip. Good to see ye, darling."

Skip, still inches from her face, raised an eyebrow. "Well? Ye got yer greetin'. Where's me answer?"

"The bloody Navy is _not_ next door to yer ship, Skippy," Cecily returned cheekily. Skip rolled his eyes again. "Two Navy _ships_ are next door to ye, and they happen to be on our side fer a change. So don't get yer panties up yer arse."

"On _our_ side?" Skip asked incredulously, a short, cynical bark of laughter escaping his throat. "Ye've got to be bloody kiddin' me, O'Connor."

"Have I e'er told ye how sexy it is when ye call me by me last name?" Cecily replied with an uncharacteristically sweet smile. "Yer the only man to e'er do that, Skip me darling."

"Stop tryin' to calm me down by comin' on to me!" Skip demanded, still angry. "That only works so many times, ye know."

Cecily sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she snapped, swinging her legs down off his desktop and letting her boots hit the office floor with a tremendous _bang!_ "After all the shite I went through to get to ye be'ore Beckett did, I _was_ expectin' more gratitude, but I suppose that was expectin' too much. Ye bein' such a pain in the arse and all."

Skip frowned. "Beckett? Lord Cutler Beckett, the git who managed to take charge of the Navy on this side of the Atlantic? He was comin' after me?"

"Don't know why ye're so surprised," Cecily retorted, rising from her seat. "Ye got a reputation in yer own right."

"Why'd ye bring the two li'l boys in blue with ye?" he asked.

"I told ye, they're on our side. How do ye think I found out ye were Beckett's next target?"

Skip sent the two Navy men in his cabin a wary look. "How can ye be so bloody sure they're on our side?"

Cecily grinned. "Well, they've both agreed to help me stop Beckett. Commodore James Norrington o'er there has done it to earn his freedom. And Captain Theodore Groves here has a hero complex." She winked at the aforementioned Navy officer. "I believe 'em. They got their own motives, and they ain't to help us poor pirates."

Skip didn't look entirely certain, but he let it slide for the moment. Instead, he chose to focus on one of the other disturbing things that had come out of her mouth. "What do ye mean, stop Beckett? I swear to hell and back, Cecily, all ye ever do is talk in bloody riddles."

"I'm gettin' to it! Bloody hell, Skip, keep yer shirt on." Suddenly, a rather naughty grin spread across her face. "Or don't." The grin then melted away, and she continued as though the moment had never occurred. "In case ye hadn't noticed, Skip, Lord Beckett's been doin' a lot o' pirate hangin' lately. And not just any pirates, ye know. Good pirates. Scary pirates. Famous, fearsome pirates. And I wonder if ye're wonderin' what I was wonderin'. Just how exactly _is_ good ol' Beckett gettin' his hands on all 'em famous fearsomes, eh? Let's face it; the King's Navy's bloody incompetent..."

"I beg your pardon?" Norrington interrupted. He was ignored.

"... so he can't be takin' advantage o' the resources. No, he's got some leverage. And I done found out what it is." Cecily took a few steps closer to Skip, getting right in his face as he had done to her moments before. It was a bit off a stretch, seeing as the other pirate captain was considerably taller than her, but Cecily managed it just the same. "See, the good commodore o'er here was simply desperate to get his job back, so he gave Beckett the thing the stuffy ol' lord wanted most: the heart o' Davy Jones."

Skip stared at her for a moment in silence. The room became rather still. Then suddenly, he laughed: a loud, abrasive, roaring laugh. "Bloody hell, Cecily, do I look like some young kid ye can dazzle with ghost stories? Heart of Davy Jones? Don't be ridiculous; there's no such thing."

"I ain't bein' ridiculous, darling. Wish I was. Don't believe me, ask Norrington all about it."

Skip looked at her in disbelief. "I _don't_ believe it."

"Come on, Skip! Ye know this guy's got to have some sort o' advantage here! The sea ain't right! Don't ye tell me ye can't feel it too!"

Skip looked uncomfortable. "Ye said Beckett was comin' after me?"

"Two days time, darling. Just about."

"Ye know, I meant to leave port about a week ago," Skip told her, shaking his head. "But every time we go to pull out, some horrendous storm blows up, and we get stuck."

Cecily said nothing in response to this announcement. She just looked at him.

Skip sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Was thinkin' of pullin' out this afternoon, as a matter of fact. But there's storm clouds brewin' in the distance..."

"Ye got to leave with us tonight, Skip," Cecily announced. "Or Beckett'll have yer neck in a noose."

Skip nodded. "I see that." He sighed. "I don't say I believe ye, Cecily, don't misunderstand, but I ain't takin' any chances by stickin' around."

Cecily nodded. "Skip," she said. "We're goin' after him. Beckett that is. Once we build up the fleet enough for battle. Bloody bastard travels in a convoy o' eight ships. Now, ye don't have to believe me about the heart. Ye don't have to think I'll actually find it. But I know ye want to get rid o' Beckett e'ery bit as much as I do. So what do ye say? Ye in for it? Ye ready to fight back?"

Skip grinned in spite of himself. "Well, I ain't never said no to a fight before, O'Connor. Ye know that."

"Aye," Cecily said, grinning back. "I seem to recall that li'l fact 'bout ye."

Skip got serious. "I want to talk to ye in private."

She nodded in agreement and gave Sandra and Keith the look. Her two crewmembers nodded their acquiescence and left the office. Cecily sent the two Navy men the look as well, but they weren't quite as obedient.

"We're just as much a part of this agreement as you, Captain O'Connor," Norrington announced, just as she knew he would. "I don't see why we should have to leave."

"Because ye're _not_ as big a part o' this agreement as I am, James," Cecily retorted. "This is _me_ connection, and maybe he's not as comfortable negotiatin' with ye as he is with me. Get me, Norrington?"

Commodore Norrington looked ready to argue, but Captain Groves intervened, apparently realizing that nothing was going to get done if he and James stuck around. Clearly the two pirates had things to say to each other that were strictly for one another's ears. He tapped his old friend on the shoulder and shook his head.

Norrington didn't like it, but he followed his companion's example. The two Navy men left the room. The door had barely shut behind thembefore the two pirates got down to business.

Skip gave Cecily a stern look. "I don't necessarily believe ye 'bout this heart business. Sounds like ol' wives tales to me, ye know? But I am willing to fight back against Beckett. Ye know me; I never shy away from a fight."

"Aye," Cecily agreed, smirking. "Ye rather have a problem."

Skip decided to ignore that. "Our kind ain't safe s'long as that man's alive. _That's_ why I'm joinin' up, understand? To protect meself and me way of life."

"I wouldn't expect anythin' less o' ye, Skip. Or anythin' more, fer that matter."

He grinned. "Besides, ye always were rather hard to say no to."

Cecily grinned back. "So do we have an accord?"

"Aye," he returned. "We have an accord."

Cecily stuck out her hand. Skip grasped it, but instead of shaking it, yanked her close to him, and placed a heavy kiss on her lips. Cecily, though caught off guard, kissed him back. She never had been one to say no to a kiss. She had never really been one to say no to more than a kiss either.

Slowly, they separated, and Skip grinned down at her. "We know one another too well," he announced. "Handshakes don't quite seal the deal anymore."

Cecily raised an eyebrow, amusement pulling her lips back into a small smile of her own. "Fair enough."


	5. Hurricane

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her summer break.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Sorry it's been so long, but I've been contemplating whether or not to continue due to the events of the third movie. I've had this planned out a long time ago and know exactly what I want to happen, but the movie kind of messed things up. Some things are similar to my story, and other things are way different and way beyond my imagination. I have decided, however, to keep writing my story and to stick to my original outline. Just try to think of this as a completely different story than _At World's End_. That's what I do.

* * *

Chapter 5: Hurricane

Nassau had long been nothing more than a speck in the distance when the storm blew up.

It started with the waves. The water had grown consistently rougher as the four ships sailed away from the port, and soon progressed from a persistent choppiness lapping at the sides of each hulking hull into a rolling, foaming, deadly swirl of dark gray water and whitecaps. The once cerulean sky had darkened as the clouds gathered, and turned a formidable iron gray. There was no light; in fact, had they not known better, the pirates might have thought the sun had set and night had fallen.

Then the wind picked up. As the intensity of the waves increased and the sky blackened, the light salty breeze quickened, and was soon whipping around the three ships in a whirlwind frenzy, blowing through each sailor's hair and billowing in any loose clothing, threatening all the while to carry the sails away.

The rain began to fall soon later, starting as a steady downpour that quickly escalated into blinding sheets. Heavy thunder began to roll across the sky and echo over the turbulent ocean, followed soon after by bright, vivid lightening that burned from the clouds to the waves. As the thunder and lightening came in quicker succession, the waves began to roll over the decks.

Captain O'Connor had sailed through many storms before, but even she was surprised at the ferocity of the storm her small fleet had caught itself in. It soon became apparent that if they even survived, they would be blown off course considerably.

Nassau wasn't that far away. They could turn around and take shelter in port, but Cecily knew she'd have to have a death wish to do that. All eight ships in Beckett's convoy would be awaiting her four ship fleet, and they'd be sunk faster than they would out in the storm. The only other option was to sail on through the hurricane, which was most likely going to destroy them all. Either way she looked at it, her decision was going to be nothing short of suicidal.

Cecily didn't doubt for a moment that this was Beckett's plan. No doubt he had used his newfound control of the ocean to whip up one hell of a hurricane that would send them running back to Nassau, where he'd have them all hanged. And if they chose not to take safe harbor, the storm would send them all to the bottom of the ocean, which in Beckett's eyes would be yet another plus.

Her ship was a strong one, and both her and her men were experienced. Cecily thought that if they handled the hurricane correctly, they might be able to ride out the storm. And she had faith in Skip's ability to do the same. His ship was no weaker than hers, and he was every bit the sailor she was. But when it came to the Navy men, Cecily had doubts. She had only just met Theodore Groves and had no idea what his resume was. She was clueless when it came to his capabilities in this situation. As for Norrington, well… she knew all too well he'd lost his post as Commodore the first time around by sailing on through a hurricane like this one and destroying his ship. The odds were not in his favor.

If they could hold out until they reached the next port, Cecily thought they could all make it through the storm. Just how long that would take, however, was beyond her knowledge.

A large wave crashed over the ship and knocked several crewmen off their feet. Sandra yelled out a resulting order that was lost in the wind. Cecily, for the most part, ignored the action on deck, focusing on trying to keep the ship on course.

"Captain!" Sandra shouted at Cecily, although the woman was merely two inches from her face. Even still, she could barely be heard over the storm. "Captain, shouldn't we…?"

The rest of her shout was drowned out by a roar of thunder. Lightning sliced open the deep purple sky, a blinding vertical flash that made Cecily see stars.

"What?" she roared at Sandra.

"Shouldn't we drop canvas?" Sandra bellowed, trying desperately to shake free the sopping auburn hair clinging resolutely to her face.

Cecily shook her head furiously. "That's what he wants us to do!" she shouted back. "We ride the storm!"

She knew Sandra had heard her simply by the look on her face. "But Captain..."

"That's an order, Sandra!" she barked.

Sandra was slightly taken aback, and Cecily wasn't surprised. She rarely used the authority card with her crew, but lately she seemed to be doing it a lot. Sandra's face showed grave misgivings, but despite this, Sandra followed orders and carried on.

She felt mildly guilty, but Cecily didn't really have time to dwell on their exchange. There was a storm, and there was a maniac, and both threats were currently attempting to kill her. She had to deal the best way she knew how. If that meant sailing through this storm, it meant sailing through this storm. And if it meant distancing herself from the crew and forcing her will even on her oldest comrades… then it meant that as well.

Much to Cecily's dismay, the storm showed no sign of letting up. Another foamy wave washed over the side of her ship, knocking over several crewmen. The water rolled over her head, and Cecily clung tight to the wheel. Coughing and shaking wet hair out of her eyes as the water receded, Cecily took a deep breath and tried to focus once again on hugging the wheel. The waves tried desperately to yank it from her hands.

One of the cannons tore loose from its moorings and slid across the deck haphazardly. Keith, standing in its path, threw himself down on the wet wood, rolling out of the way. Marjorie and one of the newer crewmen, whose name Cecily hadn't learned yet, grabbed hold of the escaping weaponry, wrestling it back against the wind to its original place and struggling to tie it down. Another vivid lightning strike brightened the sky for a brief second, and then the turning, tossing sea fell dark once again.

If they didn't make port soon, they were dead in the water.

The ship struggled on through the thrashing waves. Thunder continued to rumble across the ocean as they sailed on through the storm, lightening firing up and down in the sky. The wind was starting to rip loose the sails.

And suddenly, just as Cecily began to think that her days on this ocean were less than numbered, they were officially over, she heard the crewman in the crow's nest call out, "Land ho!"

Cecily looked up at the crewman's voice, squinting against the dark. There was another flash of lightening, by which Cecily was startled to see a port fast approaching them through the blinding rain. "Straight ahead!" she shouted. She could only hope the rest of her fleet would follow.

Cecily continued holding the helm. Sandra's voice rang out over the roar of the storm, issuing orders to make landing. It was difficult to tell through the storm, but from what Cecily could see it looked like Skip, Norrington and Groves were duplicating her actions. All four ships had miraculously made it through the storm and were dropping anchor in the bay.

After overseeing the landing and being assured that the _Bloody Sunrise_ was in safe condition, Cecily headed into her quarters to consult the map. To her relief, they weren't too far off course, and would still probably be able to catch up to the nearest ship, which was _The Sea Bird_. They were headed north from Barbados and if she headed south towards Barbados, she would undoubtedly meet them head on. And, to her delight, the _Heartless Maiden_ was headed east from Nicaragua. All she had to do was continue south towards Trinidad and she'd most likely intercept them. And then she could track down the _Savage Beauty_. It seemed like a plan.

Except first this damn hurricane would have to let up. And then she'd have to figure out how to avoid Beckett. And _then_ she was going to have to find some way to convince everyone to help her. And _that_ could get tricky.

Cecily checked Beckett's status. He was in Nassau, probably waiting to see what results his little hurricane would bring. She sighed, rubbing her eyes. She was tired and she was drenched, but this couldn't wait.

She mulled it over for a moment, wrenching the water out of her hair as she sat before her desk. If Beckett stayed docked in Nassau for the duration of the hurricane, then maybe it would be safe for her small fleet to stay in port until the storm blew over. After that, they could double back… if she kept a close enough eye on Beckett as she did so… and then head south. If they did that, they might lose him.

Suddenly, over the thunder and wind, she heard a ruckus outside. Cecily frowned, getting to her feet and ambling out on deck to investigate. When she reached the door, she saw Keith and another crewman helping Skip, Norrington and Groves on board.

Cecily gathered her brows together in a dark look and marched across the deck to greet her visitors, ignoring the rain pelting down on her shoulders.

"What the hell are ye doin' on me ship?" she demanded loudly.

The four captains stood in the pouring rain, drenched and sour. "What are ye doin' period?" Skip demanded back, just as loudly.

"Stoppin' so we don't die in a hurricane, genius!" Cecily snapped. "What did ye think?"

"I thought we were to stay the course!"

"Beckett's off our trail," Cecily replied. "He thinks ye went west and he's sailing that way. We're stopping to wait out the storm and then we're headin' to Barbados."

A statement that, of course, wasn't entirely true. But Cecily wasn't about to jeopardize her plans by being too honest.

"Why Barbados?" Groves asked.

"And how the hell do ye know where Beckett's headed?" Skip demanded.

Cecily fixed Groves with a glare she usually reserved for Norrington – who, now that she thought about it, had been awfully quiet as of yet. Used to being on the captain's good side, Groves almost quavered under her stare, but refused to break eye contact with her.

"We are headed to Barbados because I say so," Cecily snapped. "One o' me connections is settin' sail from there and I hope to intercept him. As for _your_ questions," Cecily continued viciously, rounding on Skip. "How I know what I know is entirely my business and none of yers. Now shut the hell up and do what I say. I am in charge here, and if ye want to succeed in this venture, ye'll follow me orders."

"And who exactly died and made you commodore?" Norrington challenged her. It was almost comforting to hear from him – Cecily had been wondering when he would speak up.

"Ye did," she snarled. "I was the only one with the balls to step up and take charge o' this thing. I was the only one willin' to put me neck out to preserve the sanctity o' me ocean, and since I am the only one around here willin' to make these sorts o' sacrifices to stop a madman like Beckett, I am the one who gets to be in charge, I am the one e'eryone is goin' to listen to, and if ye have any problems with that, ye can take it up with me pistol!"

She'd drawn her gun and pointed it at the trio so quickly that they didn't notice the threat until they were staring down the barrel. "Now," she said as calmly as an armed and crazy woman can be. "I'm not goin' to put up with anymore o' this shite. Do ye understand me? We are not a democracy. I am in charge. And if ye want to survive, ye'll do as I say. Do we agree?"

"Aye, Cap'n," Groves murmured. Skip said an "aye" as well. Norrington glared at her for a moment, seemingly arguing with himself, before finally relenting and nodding his assent.

"Good," Cecily said, relaxing. She un-cocked the pistol and returned it to her holster. "Now, any more questions?"

* * *

The dark blackened ship approached the shoreline in the twilight, the thick tropic trees casting shadows on the waves, on the river mouth, blocking the little light still available as the sun sank down into the sea. The ship cut through the gentle, pale gray waves, making its way closer to the river mouth. As the ship drew nearer, the crew heard the loud frantic thumping of drums echoing from the jungle on either side of the river.

Elizabeth Swann watched the shoreline warily, listening with anxious ears to the drumming coming from the thick trees. She leaned on her forearms against the side of the _Black Pearl_, unsure whether to be relieved or terrified. Behind her, she could hear both Barbossa and Jack shouting identical orders to their crewmen, and arguing with one another about who was the captain on board this ship in between each shout.

Jack. Barbossa. She took a deep breath. It was so surreal. She had actually gotten Jack back from Davy Jones' Locker, and she had actually survived the trip. Her guilty conscience was only mildly appeased.

She hadn't thought they would make it. First, with the voyage to Singapore to deal with Sao Feng… she was still confused as to how they had made it out of there alive, let alone with a ship and crew. But somehow Will had come through.

Will. Elizabeth sighed. Everything was so… complicated. They were barely speaking. Now that he truly understood what she had done to Jack, how she had left him to the Kracken… well, at least he knew she wasn't in love with the eccentric pirate captain.

But he didn't trust her anymore. He'd said as much, and she'd basically informed him that he was right not to. She'd told him straight up he couldn't trust her. And he hadn't spoken to her since.

Her marriage was already falling apart, and it hadn't even begun.

The only upside was that they had escaped the Locker… through Jack's genius of course. He made the lives of everyone around him ten times more difficult than they needed to be, but he was a genius. There was no arguing the fact.

Now they were dropping anchor in the river mouth, only a few miles down river from Tia Dalma's hut. When the _Pearl_ had surfaced, released from the Locker, both Jack and Barbossa had insisted they return to the voodoo priestess's hut at once. Elizabeth couldn't begin to comprehend why, but it was the first and only thing they had agreed upon, so she decided not to destroy the momentary peace. It was unlikely to come again.

The ship creaked. There was a splash as the anchor hit the waves. The sailors on deck behind her called back and forth to one another. Jack's deep, throaty voice issued a command. A gaggle of crewmen borrowed from Sao Feng began readying one of the longboats.

She sighed again. A tingle ran up and down her spine. There was a powerful energy in the air, a combination of night and sea and wind, with a hint of something more sinister. Something was about to happen. She could feel it. Both she and everyone on board the _Pearl_ stood at the beginning. There was a long voyage stretching out before them, ahead of them… longer than the journey to and from the Locker. That was nothing compared to what was beginning now.

* * *

Jack stepped out of the longboat, clambering up onto the weather-beaten, incredibly unstable dock. Tia Dalma's wooden shack stood before him, leaning unsteadily on its high, thin stilts. Below them, the river gurgled slowly past. Cotton tied up the longboat and took a seat on the edge of the dock while the rest of them battled their way through the hanging vines and moss to get to the voodoo priestess's front door.

Directly behind Jack, annoying him just with his decrepit and crusty presence was Hector Barbossa. He smelled like undead monkey – a stench Jack was sure had something to do with the smelly undead monkey perched on the other pirate's shoulder. Jack wasn't sure if the price he'd paid to escape the Locker was worth it or not. He was almost willing to say it wasn't worth it at all, not if he had to sail alongside Barbossa, the man who'd stolen his ship and ruined his life and hadn't even had the decency to stay dead once Jack had killed him. What sort of vengeance was that? He'd finally shot the man that had taken away everything from him, and here he was, alive and well. Talk about an injustice.

Part of him wanted to use this little side trip to Tia Dalma's place to demand an explanation for the resurrection of his arch-nemesis, but at the moment he knew there were far more important and pressing matters to discuss with the loony sea witch.

Jack threw open the door to Tia's hut with a wide, flamboyant gesture, and stepped over the threshold into the stifling warm, candlelit shack, carefully dodging some herb or animal hanging from the ceiling. Whatever it had started out as was no longer discernable. The dark skinned priestess with the wild black hair looked up from her scrying and grinned, showing off her black and gold teeth.

She had been expecting them. This was obvious from the unsurprised and all-knowing expression in her laughing dark eyes.

"Me witty Jack," she crooned, standing and approaching the gaggle of pirates crowding her front door. "Returned from the Locker, I see. And de wind be a blowin' ye back here so soon? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm sorry," he smirked. "Did ye not want to see me again? Ye went to great lengths to convince Billy and Lizzy and the gang here to come wading into the Locker after me. Ye even gave them my arch-nemesis to guide the way. So thoughtful. I'm so grateful for the gesture that I suddenly find myself quite incapable of expressing said gratitude in a fitting manner of expression."

Barbossa raised an eyebrow. The rest of Jack's crew looked gob smacked. Tia Dalma just grinned slyly.

"I told ye what it was to feel me," she whispered.

"Ah, yes. Ye most certainly did," he replied, smirking again.

She turned slowly and ambled back towards her table, her hips swaying in time with the musical beat of the jungle drums. "Ye come in hopes of an answer, den?" she asked mildly. "An answer to what question, witty Jack?"

She cast an amused and mocking smile over her shoulder. "Unless ye cannot decide what the question is," she said. "Unless ye know not what it is ye want to know."

"I know what I want to know," Jack retorted defensively, his nose wrinkling with childish petulance.

Her smile grew wider. "Den ye have no need of me."

Jack frowned. Wait one second. The devil take that skinny priestess; she'd tricked him!

"Well, I have need of you," Will spoke up, stepping around the disgruntled pirate captain. Jack cast his puckered brow in the young blacksmith's direction, hoping against hope that the lad wasn't about to do something incredibly stupid.

Tia Dalma peeled her dark eyes away from Jack and let them rest on Will instead, her sly smile growing soft. "William Turner has need of me?" she asked, coming around the opposite corner of the scrying table. "What does William Turner have need of me for?"

Jack didn't miss the way Will's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, attempting to calm his nerves. "We have Jack," he announced. "And Barbossa. But I'm confused as to why you've helped us, and I am sure I'm not the only one."

Tia Dalma's sly grin returned. She raised an eyebrow. "Why do ye t'ink me helpin' ye?"

Will swallowed noticeably once again. "I'm not sure."

"But my father is dead," Elizabeth spat from her spot at the door. Jack tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Trust the chit to make everything all about her – as usual. "We saw him in the Locker."

"Yes," Tia Dalma murmured. "I saw it, after ye departed, dat de governor was not long fer this world."

"My father said something about the heart of Davy Jones," Elizabeth pressed. "He said that to kill Jones, the heart needed to be stabbed. But whoever stabs the heart must take Jones' place."

Tia Dalma stared at her.

Elizabeth waited for a moment before growing flustered. Some small part of Jack thoroughly enjoyed that. In fact, he wished to see even more of her discomfort, and he wasn't even the least bit ashamed about it. Was it wrong to resent her for sending him off to meet the Kracken? If it was, Jack didn't want to be right.

"Well?" Elizabeth demanded. "Is that true or isn't it?"

"It is true," Tia replied simply.

Elizabeth's mouth moved as though she meant to ask a follow-up question, but no words came. Will took charge of the conversation again. "So if I were to free my father," he murmured. "Then I would have to…"

"Sail de seas forever," Tia Dalma interrupted. "Ferrying souls to the next world."

Will's normally soft brown eyes hardened. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't I?" Tia asked, arching her eyebrow. She stepped closer to Will, leaning in towards his face. "I said, der was a touch of destiny about ye."

Will swallowed again. He stared at the priestess in silence. She continued grinning at him, remaining in his personal space.

Jack cleared his throat. It was time to regain his place as center of attention. Tia Dalma glanced his way, her brow sharp. "So I suppose ye won't be givin' us any pointers on tracking Jones down and… stabbing said thump-thump, would ye?"

Tia Dalma cracked no smile for him. "Where is yer compass, Jack?"

His hand went automatically to his sash. Jack glanced down at the compass hanging from his belt.

Tia Dalma turned her back on her favorite, leaving Will to stare after her as she returned to her scrying table. "Ye best be off," she announced. "De seas grow harsh. Ye have no time to waste."

It was her strange dark power, Jack decided, that sent them all scrambling for the door, stumbling over one another in their haste, despite their confused frowns as to why they were listening to the voodoo priestess.

"By de way," the priestess called after them. Jack, Barbossa, Elizabeth, and Will all froze in the doorway, turning back to look at her.

Tia Dalma did not look up from her scrying. "Der is a pirate on dese waters… a pirate determined to stop Cutler Beckett. Him crimes against de sea multiplied in yer absence."

They stared at her expectantly. She still did not look up, speaking slowly despite her warnings to make haste. "De pirate be named O'Connor," she went on. "Captain O'Connor, of de _Bloody Sunrise_. Soon, de _Sunrise_ leave bloody water in her wake."

She finally looked up, her lips parting in a wicked grin. "Where she go, Beckett be found. Where dey both be found, Davy Jones be not far. And where be Davy Jones…"

Tia trailed off. "Will also be his heart," Will whispered, finishing her sentence.

She nodded, still grinning. "Go now," she ordered. "She not wait for ye long."

Will and Elizabeth made haste for the longboat. Both Barbossa and Jack stayed in the doorway. "She?" Barbossa asked gruffly.

Tia nodded again. "Aye. She."

Barbossa raised an eyebrow, and then doffed his hat to the voodoo priestess. Tia Dalma lowered her eyes back to the tabletop. With his monkey still perched on his shoulder, Barbossa turned and marched towards the longboat.

Jack watched the priestess carefully, knowing there was more to this whole mess than she was letting on. She knew too much, Tia did, particularly about things that had yet to happen. "Good bye, Tia," he said slowly, meaningfully.

She looked up at him, and grinned that wicked grin again. "I be seein' ye again soon, witty Jack."

He nodded, knowing it would do no good to argue or to question. Then he turned and left her hut.

* * *

Once the storm had started to let up, all four of Cecily's ships left port and began sailing south. Cecily was doing her best to manipulate her route so she'd meet up with _The Sea Bird_. Fortunately for her small fleet, Beckett had continued sailing west, and Cecily was sure they had successfully avoided him – at least for the time being.

They'd been sailing for days when a ship was finally spotted on the horizon. As they got closer and closer to the vessel it became clear to Cecily that they'd finally found _The Sea Bird_.

"Run up the white flag," she murmured to Sandra.

"Run up the white flag!" Sandra shouted. The crew hustled to follow the order. Soon, the white flag had been hoisted into the air, and the ship was coasting towards _The Sea Bird_ as unthreateningly as possible. As they sailed closer, they saw that the other ship was also flying a white flag. Cecily's crew dropped anchor beside _The Sea Bird_, and the other pirate ship followed suit. Behind the _Bloody Sunrise_, the other three ships in Cecily's fleet dropped anchor as well.

The _Sunrise _and the _Sea Bird_ prepared for boarding. Cecily jumped up on the plank laid between the two ships and strode over to the _Sea Bird_. As she approached, the ship's captain made to meet her, a dark look in his darker eyes. He was a large man, both tall and wide, of African descent. His close-cropped hair was hidden under a very fancy feathered hat, and his chocolate brown eyes were brimming with something that looked like anger.

Cecily hopped down off the plank and walked right up to him, a mild smile on her face. He crossed his wide arms over his beefy chest and frowned down at her. "Captain O'Connor," he grunted in a thick Creole accent.

She nodded. "Captain Liberte," she said quite seriously.

They glared at one another for a few moments. Then the male captain laughed and pulled her into a bear hug. "Cecily, how ye been? It's been too long."

"I know! I missed ye Ronan," she replied, laughing too. "How's shite?"

"I love hearing ye say that word," he said. "No one quite says shit like an Irish lass."

Cecily grinned, raising her eyebrow seductively. "There be a lot of things no one does quite like an Irish lass."

"Like fight," Ronan agreed, not rising to her bait. He never did. "Ye are a terror."

"Right back at ye, mate."

"Well, what are ye doing in these parts?" Ronan asked. "I know ye too well not to know when ye want something."

Cecily laughed. "Aye, that ye do. Well I suppose it ain't no surprise to ye to hear that the British Navy's been capturing and hanging us poor pirates at a rate no one's ever seen before. Like the bloody Black Death, it is."

"Aye, I had noticed that," Ronan agreed. "So does this have something to do with what ye want, or are ye just makin' small talk?"

Cecily grinned. "Perhaps we should go into your office for this."

"What? Ye don't trust me crew?"

"No, I trust them," Cecily replied. "Ye just might need to sit down, s'all."

"And will _they_ be joining us?"

Cecily frowned. "Will who be joining us?"

Ronan pointed behind her and Cecily followed his finger with her eyes. Flanking her, of course, were Norrington, Groves, and Skip. She rolled her eyes.

"Aye," she said. "It appears so."

* * *

The four captains followed Captain Liberte to his quarters, everyone quietly pestering Cecily with questions in tones that Ronan couldn't quite hear. "So, who is this Liberte fellow?" Norrington asked snidely. "Another ex-lover of yours?"

"No," Cecily said, slowly losing her patience. "He's just an old friend."

"An old friend with benefits?" Skip asked mischievously. Cecily wanted to smack him, but couldn't. He didn't mean any harm. Her and Skip were friends, and he was only teasing – unlike Norrington. Norrington meant to be nothing but snarky and hurtful… and the lord only knew why. She supposed he was still adjusting to not being in charge. Still, she was going to lose it in a few jibes.

"Hardly," she replied to Skip's question, trying very hard to be calm. "We go way back. Like brother and sister, me and him."

Ronan had entered his office and the rest of them followed suit. His first mate was waiting for them. "Tom can stay and hear this, right?"

"Of course," Cecily agreed.

"Hello, Cecily," Tom greeted her in a low voice, also afflicted with a Creole accent. He was dark skinned and tall, but unlike his captain, he was muscular and toned. His black hair was also close-cropped and his rather attractive face clean shaven. Something in the way he smiled at the female pirate captain made how they knew one another obvious.

Cecily could tell that everyone but Ronan was smirking at her. All right, so she hadn't slept with the captain, she'd slept with the first mate. What was the big deal anyway? So she was a bit of a harlot. Wasn't that her business? Never seemed to bother any of them before.

She hated everyone.

"Hello, Tom," she said with a smile. She didn't have to be nasty to him, after all. It wasn't his fault she had three irritating traveling companions.

"Are ye going to introduce us?" Skip smirked.

Cecily sighed. "Everyone, this is Captain Ronan Liberte, captain of _The Sea Bird_, and his first mate Thomas Manae. Ronan, Tom, this is Captain Skip Worchester of the _Fate's Plaything_, another renowned pirate such as yerselves. And these two men o'er here are Captain Theodore Groves and Commodore James Norrington o' the British Royal Navy. And before ye get yer petticoats in a twist, they're on our side. I've converted them, so to speak."

"You have not!" Norrington huffed, sounding rather insulted. "We're only helping you because Beckett's a bloody madman!"

"Whatever," Cecily rolled her eyes.

"Well, Cecily?" Ronan asked, rather taken aback. "What is it that is so important, then, that ye had to bring Navy men into it?"

Cecily took a seat across the desk from Ronan. "Ye ever hear of the heart o' Davy Jones?"

Both Ronan and Tom got wide eyed. "Of course we have," Ronan said. "What about it?"

"Let's just say it's been shanghaied from its rightful owner," Cecily replied.

Ronan and Tom exchanged looks. "Ye mean to say," Ronan said with some trepidation. "Dat someone has uncovered the legendary heart o' de sea and taken it to use as their own?"

"Glad we understand each other," Cecily returned. "Guess who's got dear old Davy's heart now?"

Ronan and Tom exchanged looks again and shrugged. "Who?" Tom asked.

"Lord Cutler Beckett."

A hush fell over the room. Exactly the reaction Cecily had been hoping for. She was entirely sick of being met with skepticism and sarcastic comments. Ronan and Tom were the absolute perfect audience.

"I've come to ye with a proposal, Ronan," Cecily announced. "We join forces. Build a fleet. One that, as ye can see, I've already started. And once we're big enough, we find Beckett and we destroy him. We take back our sea. And then we finish off Davy Jones once and for all. The power o' the sea remains unbridled, and all that shite. What do ye say?"

Ronan was quiet for a moment, clearly lost in grave consideration. He cast a glance at his first mate, who met his eyes with a look that quite obviously held a hell of a lot of meaning – sadly, the other people present couldn't decipher it if their lives depended on it. Cecily didn't even try. She kept her gaze steady on Ronan, awaiting his answer.

"We all do what we must do," Ronan said slowly. "And what we must do is protect our sea from such violation. As sailors, it is our duty to protect her as though she were our home – because, as sailors, she _is_ our home. No man deserves the power dat heart can wield – certainly no man like Beckett. We have a duty to protect our home and a need to protect ourselves, and de only way we can hope to accomplish either of these is to put Beckett out o' power. The choice is clear – it has been laid before us even before our meeting. Us pirates have long faced extinction, and now, all too quickly, it seems judgment day is upon us. We either fight, or we vanish. And so, we will fight."

His speech was the sort that made everyone who heard it quiet and reflective. For a few moments following his announcement, everyone was silent. But finally, Cecily broke the stillness.

"So, I can count on ye?"

"Aye," Ronan agreed. "Ye can count on me."

* * *

"Well that wasn't nearly so hard as I anticipated," Groves said to Cecily as the four pirate captains boarded the _Sunrise_ and headed towards their other ships. Ronan's crew was quickly preparing to join Cecily's fleet.

"Why ever would ye think convincin' Ronan o'er to our side would be difficult?" Cecily asked.

"Well, your story does sound rather unbelievable. You must realize that. I never would have believed it myself if James hadn't convinced me beforehand…."

"Pirates are a superstitious lot, Ted," Cecily returned.

"Yes, I know, but even Skip was skeptical at first…."

"Well, ye must understand," Cecily explained. "Ronan and Tom are _real_ Caribbean. They were raised here on the islands, they speak the lingo, and they had mothers who practiced voodoo."

"So?"

"So," Cecily said with a grin. "Once ye believe in voodoo, not too hard to believe in Davy Jones, is it?"


	6. Don't Look Now

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks for the review, Queen of the Red Skittle!

* * *

Chapter 6: Don't Look Now

To find oneself on the open sea, approached by two Navy and three pirate ships would be surprising to say the least and terrifying to say the most. If Cecily O'Connor's five-ship fleet were to stumble upon some nice, fat, well-stocked merchant vessel, the crew and captain would most likely fear a pirate attack from which there could be no escaping and no survival. However, looting and raiding were, for once, the last things on anyone's mind. Every man and woman aboard the five ships was focused on the journey south and the war they were preparing to fight. Captain O'Connor was especially concerned.

According to her paranormal map, the fleet would most likely intercept Nathaniel Easton's _Heartless Maiden_ in about a week. After that, they would sail on past Trinidad in pursuit of Tanner Hartford's _Savage Beauty_. Hartford had made a quick stop on the small island, to pick up supplies presumably, and then had continued on south. If Cecily hoped to catch him before he ended up past French Guiana, she was going to have to pull off some serious hustle.

However, there was still a lot of concern about what she was going to do after she tracked down Easton and Hartford. She still needed one more ship if she hoped to be evenly matched with the convoy Beckett was currently traveling in. And she still had no idea where she was going to get one more ship.

She was sitting in her quarters, studying her map and contemplating that very problem when Keith interrupted her quiet reflection. "Cap'n," he announced breathlessly. "We're bein' followed."

Cecily snapped to attention. According to the map in front of her, Beckett was nowhere near her fleet. Who the hell could be following her?

"Colors?" she demanded.

Keith shook his head. "None."

"The Roger, then?"

"Aye, Cap'n. Looks to be a pirate vessel."

"Friendly?"

Keith shrugged. "Remains to be seen." He hesitated slightly. "Cap'n, she's flying black sails."

Cecily stood up immediately. "Black sails?" she queried, leading the way on deck.

"Aye, black. Do ye think…?"

"Impossible," Cecily replied. "Bottom o' Davy Jones' locker, if Tia Dalma's to be believed. And she ain't steered us wrong yet."

"Aye, but didn't she mention something about the remaining crew traveling to World's End?"

Cecily smirked over her shoulder at him. "And here I was thinkin' ye didn't believe in ol' wives tales."

Keith smirked back. "Well, the tales keep comin' true, Cap'n. Make a believer out of anyone."

On deck, she noted her crew uneasy, and Norrington's ship making its way closer to her own. The Commodore himself seemed to be trying to get her attention. Cecily ignored him.

Instead, she made her way to the stern, all the while frowning at the approaching vessel. She took out her spyglass and trained it on the far off ship.

It was indeed flying black sails. Though it was too far away to distinguish the faces of the people on board, it didn't take a genius to figure out that if Norrington was having a little shit fit he must recognize the vessel. And if he recognized the ship, well, it might just turn out to be the _Black Pearl_.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

"Cap'n," Keith said rather hesitantly. "Cap'n, they're runnin' up the white flag."

"Aye," Cecily agreed. "I see that."

She stood still a moment, contemplative. Keith fidgeted beside her, looking anxious. He seemed reluctant to press the matter, but spoke up despite this. "Shouldn't we… are we… what do ye think…?"

Cecily held up a hand to silence him. Keith obeyed the wordless command. She glanced over at the _Dauntless_, which was close enough to shout across to. She moved to the side facing the Navy ship, and Norrington followed suit. "Captain O'Connor!" he called over to her as loud as he could. "We have company!"

"Do we really?" she shouted back. "I hadn't noticed!"

"I'm positive that's Jack Sparrow's ship, the _Black Pearl_!"

"The _Pearl_, eh?" Cecily yelled. "And what do ye propose we do about it?"

"I propose we stop and listen to what they want!"

Cecily contemplated the matter for a few seconds. "And why would we do that?"

"We need an eighth ship, if I recall accurately!" Norrington shouted back. Cecily considered stopping as suggested simply so she could better discuss the situation with the Navy man. The whole shouting across to one another thing was getting ridiculous. "If we get Sparrow on board, that makes eight! You do wish to win this thing, correct?"

Well, he had her there. They did need another ship. And if anyone out of the five of them knew what they were doing when it came to Captain Jack Sparrow and the _Black Pearl_, she supposed it would be James. She pretended to mull it over a few moments longer, and then shouted back across, "All right, James! We'll have it yer way this time! Don't get used to it!"

Cecily started shouting orders to her crew to drop anchor and fly their own white flag. Norrington followed suit. At a nod from Cecily, Keith began signaling the other three ships to do the same.

The _Black Pearl_ came within boarding range and dropped its anchor. Cecily surveyed the prospective recruit. It was a dark colored ship and its appearance suggested the vessel had been through a lot in its years. Battle, fire, storms – name it, and Cecily would bet the ship had lived it. Judging on looks alone, Cecily would have wagered the ship could barely float – and yet, she knew the stories. Everyone did. And if legends were to be believed – a position that Cecily was beginning to take – this ship could do a hell of a lot more than float.

She looked away from the vessel itself and began an inspection of the visible crew. Preparing to board the _Sunrise_ was a heavily suntanned man with long black dreadlocks, an elderly, sea-wizened man with a ridiculously large hat, a young, pretty blond woman, and a young, dark-haired man. Each one had an air of authority about them, and Cecily immediately sensed trouble. Either of the four could have passed for captain – and when the captainship appeared up for grabs, a ship was bound to have problems. Mutiny aboard one of her vessels was the last thing Cecily needed.

Her surveillance of the new ship ended once the bustle at her back caught her attention. From the commotion behind her, Cecily assumed the other four ships were preparing to board her own. The realization provoked a roll of her eyes. Determined not to be left out of anything, the other four captains were quickly boarding her ship to bear witness to the discussion she would have with the newest captain.

Cecily began to feel that this whole fleet business was turning into a situation of "too many cooks in the kitchen."

Ronan reached her first. "Cecily," his Creole accent sounded in her ear. "What are we doing? Who is this?"

Cecily shrugged. "According to Norrington, this is the _Black Pearl_. And we're going to extend them the ol' olive branch."

Ronan looked as though he wasn't sure this was such a great idea. Cecily couldn't really blame him. She had her own misgivings.

"Cecily," Skip said hurriedly, also coming up behind her. Cecily rolled her eyes again. "What the hell are ye doin' now?"

"Do ye have to second guess me on everything, Skip?" Cecily snapped. "I swear, it's always got to be a bloody fight with ye!"

"Aye, it does! That's why ye invited me along," Skip snapped right back. Cecily made a noise of aggravation. Skip barreled on. "What the hell is going on and who the hell is this new guy?"

"This new guy," Norrington cut in stiffly. "Is Captain Jack Sparrow of the _Black Pearl_ and we are stopping to offer him a place in the fleet."

Cecily spun around at the unexpected sound of Norrington's voice and saw that she now had all four men flanking her. This was getting to be too much. Skip turned to her again, still fussing. "What, so now he's calling the shots? What happened to _you_ being in charge?"

"I'm still in charge!' Cecily snarled. "Back off all of ye! The new captain is comin' and I'll be damned if he sees us quarrelin' like a pack o' hungry dogs!"

The three men and one woman were boarding her ship now. As they approached, the other five captains remained where they stood. The four men stood so close behind Cecily that she began to feel a bit like a bookend, as though her presence was the only thing keeping Skip, Ronan, Norrington and Groves from toppling over on the new arrivals.

"Hello!" the dreadlocked one exclaimed rather theatrically. "Captain O'Connor, I presume?"

"Aye," Cecily drawled. "Who the hell are ye?"

"Hasn't Commodore Norrington filled ye in?" he asked with a grin. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and that is my ship, the_ Black Pearl_."

Before Cecily could reply, Captain Sparrow's sea-wizened companion interrupted. "No, no, no, no, no." he said. "The _Black Pearl_ is _my_ ship." He grinned at Cecily and extended his hand. "Captain Hector Barbossa, at yer service."

"No!" Sparrow shouted, shoving Barbossa out of the way. "It's mine!"

"It's mine!" Barbossa growled, shoving Sparrow back.

An argument broke out. The five captains stared at the other two with raised eyebrows. Finally, the attractive young woman traveling with the quarreling pirate captains had had enough. She rolled her eyes and approached Cecily. "Hello," she said, shaking her hand. "I'm Elizabeth Swann. We heard you were building a fleet to take on Lord Cutler Beckett."

"Did ye now?" Cecily asked with mistrust. "And who told ye that?"

"Tia Dalma," was Elizabeth's reply.

Cecily smiled slightly. "Ah," she said. "Well, I suppose out o' all the people who ye might have heard it from, I mind ye hearin' it from Tia the least."

"Surely you don't suspect Elizabeth of being untrustworthy," Norrington suddenly interrupted. "I assure you, her and Mr. Will Turner over there are perfectly trustworthy individuals. Sparrow and Barbossa on the other hand…."

"Well, they are _yer_ friends, James," Cecily replied. "That doesn't exactly scream 'trust me'."

"Oh, don't worry," Turner spoke up. "We're not his friends."

"He's a traitor," Elizabeth spat.

"Oh, so they know about the heart," Cecily smirked. "Well, anyone who calls Norrington a traitor is a friend o' mine."

Norrington rolled his eyes. "You're such a kind woman," he murmured sarcastically. "Why ever did I stop seeing you again?"

"Don't be silly, James, I stopped seeing ye," Cecily quickly retorted. "Ye started to disgust me, remember?"

Norrington rolled his eyes a second time and fell silent. Cecily turned back to Elizabeth and Will. "We came to join your fleet," Elizabeth announced while Will nodded his agreement. "Beckett has to be stopped."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Jack interrupted. At some point, unnoticed by the other seven, he and Barbossa had ceased to fight and rejoined the conversation. "What the hell are ye doin', Elizabeth?"

"I was just trying to do business with this other pirate captain so you could be free to go off and bicker with Barbossa like a couple of spoiled children," Elizabeth replied sweetly.

Jack didn't miss a beat. "Well, thank ye," he said. "But we're done now. So… scoot!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and stepped off to the side. Jack turned back to Cecily. "Anyway," he said. "We heard ye were building a fleet in order to stop Beckett. And seeing as everyone here can agree that Beckett is absolutely one hundred percent criminally loony, we would like to be included in your little army thing-a-ma-jing. Savvy?"

Cecily raised an eyebrow. "Well, I don't know," she replied slowly. "I can't say either one of the possible captains that I've been faced with have exactly impressed me."

Both Will and Elizabeth rolled their eyes.

"But I've impressed ye more, right?" Jack asked with a wink.

"I sincerely doubt that, Jack," Barbossa said in his gravelly voice.

"You're too old to be impressive," Jack replied with a fixed grin. "And ye smell funny."

"And ye're an idiot," Barbossa returned, also with a fixed grin. "So which do ye think Captain O'Connor would rather have? An old man… or an idiot?"

"At least I can lift things with my young, strong, non-arthritis riddled bones," Jack smirked back.

"Maybe so," Barboussa grinned. "But my spyglass is bigger."

Jack frowned, obviously a little wounded. Cecily was officially confused. "Spyglass?" she asked.

Barbossa grinned and winked at her. "Aye. My spyglass. It's huge."

Cecily sighed and rolled her eyes. "All right, clearly ye are both either crazy or stupid." With a glance at Jack, she amended, "Or both. So I'm going to offer ye a deal. Figure out who the hell is captain o' that tub o'er there so I have someone to deal with, and I'll offer you a place in me fleet. Mostly just cause I need another ship."

"Well, that's easy!" Jack exclaimed. "Me! I'm the captain. Deal with me!"

"I hate to be negative," Barbossa put in. "But that's not exactly true. _I'm_ captain, not him. Ye'll have to deal with me."

"Actually…." Jack growled, but he was interrupted.

"Argh! Would you two stop it?" Elizabeth shouted. "You are _both_ captain, all right? _Both of you are Captain_! And if you can't share like good boys, _neither_ one of you will be captain! All right? I will kick you both off the ship and _I_ will be captain! Do you understand me?"

Both pirates stared at her. "I'll bet ye'd like that," Jack grumbled.

Cecily had had enough of all of them. "Fine, so ye're both captain," she snapped. "Ye can be in the fleet. And from now on, ye won't have to worry about whose the bloody captain, cause ye'll both be takin' orders from _me_! Now both o' ye shut the bloody hell up and get the bloody hell back on yer ship!"

Shocked silence followed this outburst. "All right, fine," Jack said. "If that's the way ye want it." He sounded mildly insulted.

"We'll just be getting' back on the ship now," Barboussa added. "If that's all right with _ye_."

Cecily nodded and the two men retreated to the _Pearl_. Will and Elizabeth stopped only to shake their new partner's hand and apologize for their companions' behavior before following suit.

"They're not usually that… immature," Norrington hastened to explain. "Well, yes, actually they are, but I assure you, their talents both as sailors and as soldiers more than make up for…."

"Quiet," Cecily snapped, putting up her hand. Her patience was gone. "They better not be quite the idiots they appear, Norrington, because if they screw things up for us, I _will_ blame ye. And then…." She drew her finger across her throat threateningly before stalking off to her quarters.

The other captains stared at one another for a moment. Finally, Groves spoke.

"Excellent work, gentlemen," he said, addressing all of them. "Now she's angry."


	7. Bargains and Flashbacks

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her summer break.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to Ariana Grace for the review!

* * *

Chapter 7: Bargains and Flashbacks

It was sunset when the _Bloody Sunrise _finally led her small fleet into a shallow cove along the shores of St. Lucia. Anchored there was a beautiful cedar ship with crisp clean white sails. Scrawled along the side in gold were the words, _The Heartless Maiden_.

The _Bloody Sunrise_ sailed up close alongside the _Heartless Maiden_, intending to drop anchor. On the other ship was a pretty woman sitting on guard duty – a well-endowed young woman with thick, brown-black hair. Upon closer examination, one could see she was freckled with tattoos.

"Hoy! Captain O'Connor!" she called across the way.

"Katherine!" Cecily called back. "How ye been?"

"Decent," she returned. "Yerself?"

"Bloody peachy!"

Katherine snorted at Cecily's comeback.

"Where's yer captain at?"

"In town!" Katherine replied. "Be down there all night. Visitin' his brother, and ye know how they get!"

"Sloppy," Cecily agreed. "Which pub?"

"Double Pitchforks," Katherine answered. "Ye lookin' fer a little summat?"

"Not this time, Katherine! Here on business!"

Katherine's eyebrow was raised. "Aye, I see that! Who's all these?"

"These?" Cecily grinned. "Just me fleet, Katherine."

Katherine grinned back. "Ye comin' up in the world, O'Connor?"

"Slowly but surely. Mind if share the cove?"

"Not at all."

The other ships in the fleet prepared for landing as well. At Cecily's order, her crew readied a longboat for her to go ashore in. She'd just hit the water when she noticed that all the other ships were lowering their captains to the sea as well.

Cecily rolled her eyes. Every bloody time….

It was only to be expected, true. They were stopping ashore, and by the looks of things they wouldn't be leaving St. Lucia until morning. Cecily was allowing her own crew shore leave as well. But she knew that the five – or six – captains currently rowing ashore were not doing so in pursuit of a drink or pleasurable company. Their motives lay in supervising her meeting with this latest recruit. Not a single one of them could bear to be left out of anything.

It was what she got for consorting with other pirates and two Navy men to boot. No one in her fleet trusted anyone else. Some of them didn't even trust her. And Cecily wasn't sure she trusted a single one.

Once they'd all reached land and secured their boats, the other six captains stood on the beach, looking at her expectantly. Seeing she was correct in assuming that her fellow captains had gone ashore to meet Nathaniel Easton, Cecily decided to deliver a speech.

"All o' ye will be on yer best behavior," she spat, standing menacingly before the group. "Norrington, ye will not be a bloody blue-coat snob, understand?"

"Why are you picking on me?"

"And ye, Matthews," Cecily turned on the young captain, pretending to snarl, but really just looking amused. "No hero shite, get me?"

"Aye, Captain O'Connor," he replied, grinning himself.

"Skip, ye will not pick fights with the locals. Am I clear?"

Skip rolled his eyes. "I ain't promisin' a damn thing."

Cecily ignored his insubordination. "Ronan… well, ye usually don't pull any shite. So… keep on bein' ye, I suppose."

Ronan nodded, smiling slightly as though pleased with himself for being the least delinquent of the bunch.

"And ye two," Cecily growled, rounding on the latest additions to her crew, Captain Barbossa and Captain Sparrow. "No funny business. No childish antics, no theatrics, and _no_ quarreling with each other. Understand? I don't care if ye have to be silent the whole damn time," she barreled on, ignoring what looked like Jack's attempt to protest the rules. "Ye will _not_ bicker. Are we all in understanding?"

They grumbled, but more or less agreed to her conditions. "All right," Cecily sighed tiredly. "Let's go."

They headed into town. Norrington sidled up alongside her as they walked and said, in a low voice, "I believe it would be in your best interest to pay Sparrow and Barboussa a bit more attention than the rest of us. They aren't quite used to being told what to do, and mark my words; they'll find some way around it."

"Is this ye suckin' up to me, Norrington?" Cecily asked with a trace of annoyance.

"Hardly," he returned with some disgust. "I understand these men better than you, Cecily. I've dealt with them before. And if anyone is going to end up giving you trouble, it's going to be them. They will wheedle, bargain, sneak around, double cross, backstab, steal, and fight until they get things the way they want them. And that might not be what you were planning on."

"They ain't gonna get anything switched around that I don't agree with," Cecily replied.

"That's just the thing," Norrington explained. "They will. They'll rally everyone else against you or pretend to be on your side when really they're on their own. They'll lie to your face, and play your bargains a little less than fairly. They'll manipulate the language of it all, and then…."

"All right, fine," Cecily snapped. "I get it. Watch out for the idiots. They aren't quite so dumb as they act. Noted. Shut up."

Norrington huffed, and Cecily sighed. "Thank ye."

This slight show of gratitude seemed to put Norrington into better spirits, and he cheered up on the walk into town. By the time they'd reached the Double Pitchforks, everyone had fallen quiet and was actually abiding by their aforementioned rules. Cecily, however, felt as irritated and surly as before. The strains of leadership were starting to weigh on her. She had to fight her troops every step of the way. All these captains were used to being, well, captain, and they weren't taking too kindly to being ordered around. Cecily was trying to appeal to all of them, but they all responded differently to different behaviors, and she had a daily headache trying to keep them all straight. And now, with these new recruits, she had a whole other problem. She didn't know them very well, and even Norrington was warning her they couldn't be trusted. As if just getting everyone to do what she wanted wasn't hard enough, now she had to deal with possible betrayal. If this kept up, they were sure to lose the battle against Beckett. And if they lost, who would stop him them?

Inside the pub, Cecily scanned the crowd for signs of Nathaniel Easton. Finally, her eyes alighted upon a small table in the back where he sat facing away from her, having a lively discussion with his older brother. They were drinking, but from the looks of things they had just started, and so Cecily hoped he wasn't drunk enough yet to be unable to do business.

"Which one is he?" Skip wanted to know. Cecily pointed at him and Skip made a face. "That one?" he asked, obviously unimpressed.

"Aye," Cecily growled through gritted teeth. "That one."

Nathaniel Easton was a short man, even slightly shorter than Cecily herself. He was as skinny as Skip, but unfortunately didn't have Skip's height to make up for it. His dark brown hair was twisted into messy, matted dreadlocks. There was a ring in his nose and another one poking through his bottom lip.

"Just out of curiosity," Jack announced, his voice surprising her. "What makes ye think _he's_ going to help?"

"Nathaniel?" Cecily asked, smirking slightly. "Don't be ridiculous. That man will do anything fer me."

Having answered Sparrow's question, Cecily stepped further into the pub and pushed her way through the crowd. At long last, she approached Easton's table and stood behind his chair, with all six of the other men close behind her. "Hello, Nathaniel," she said. "Hope yer not too wasted fer a chat."

The man in question froze up, and then turned around very slowly. His gray eyes lighted upon her, and a grin spread across his face. "Cecily," he said fondly, a British accent evident in his voice. "Well, I haven't seen ye in a long time."

"Nope," she agreed. "So, ye sober enough to do business?"

He laughed. "Ye never beat around the bush, do ye? Yeah, I can talk. What do ye want?" Then he frowned. "And who are all these people?"

Cecily took a deep breath, preparing to recite a long list of names. "These people are Commodore James Norrington and Captains Lawrence Matthews, Skip Worchester, Ronan Liberte, Hector Barboussa, and Jack Sparrow. They make up me fleet."

"Why did ye say his name first?" Jack grumbled behind her. Cecily ignored him.

"Fleet?" Nathaniel asked, shocked. "Since when are ye a commodore, Cecily? How'd ye get a fleet?"

"Long story," Cecily returned. "Look, I'm sure ye noticed the sudden barrage of Navy attacks on pirate ships. They've been hauling in a lot o' us lately, and I'm ready to fight back."

Nathaniel's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Ye heard me."

He frowned at her, shaking his head. "Fight back against what?"

"Lord Cutler Beckett and the heart he stole from Davy Jones."

Another frown and a short, disbelieving guffaw. "Lord Cutler Beckett stole the heart of Davy Jones and used it to catch hundreds of pirates, and you want to fight him and take the heart back?" he laughed a second time. "Is this a joke?"

"Actually," Norrington interrupted tightly. "_I_ stole the heart from Davy Jones and _gave_ it to Lord Beckett in order to get my job as commodore back. But you were real close, weren't you?"

Suddenly, it dawned on Nathaniel that Norrington was Navy. "Ye consortin' with Navy types now, Cecily? Never figured ye for the type."

Cecily rolled her eyes. She was so tired of this. Skepticism, sarcasm, reluctance, and horror at her joining forces with the Navy. It was getting old.

"Look, Nate," she snapped. "James just told ye he's seen the heart with his own eyes and knows for a fact that it's in Beckett's possession. All these men have joined up with me to fight back against him. So whether ye believe me or not or whether ye approve o' my company or not, is not the issue. The issue is whether or not ye're gonna join up too." She leaned in close to him. "Can I count on ye, Nate?"

Nathaniel swallowed at her being so near to him. There was no way he could refuse now. It just so happened that the one thing he had been trying to convince Cecily of since that first one night stand in Tortuga was that she could _always_ count on him. "Of course ye can count on me, Cecily," he said softly. "What's the plan?"

Cecily smiled, satisfied with herself. She'd gotten him, just as she knew she would. "We only need one more pirate captain on board," she explained. "And our fleet will be big enough to launch an attack. We track down Beckett, we attack his convoy, and we destroy the heart of Davy Jones, returning the ocean to the way it should have been a long time ago. Free. Can ye be ready to sail out tomorrow? We're in a bit o' a time crunch. I'm desperate to catch up with me last captain before he disappears."

"Hell, I'll leave right now if ye want," Nathaniel replied.

Cecily smirked. "That won't be necessary, Nate. Well, good to have ye on the fleet, Captain Easton. I assume we have an accord?" She held out her hand expectantly.

Nathaniel shook it, smiling. "Aye, we have an accord."

* * *

Cecily sat down heavily at the bar.

James watched from the other side of the Double Pitchforks as she stared at the countertop, eyes glazed over and distracted. The bartender came up to ask what she wanted, and Cecily stared at him a long time, silent, until the poor man got impatient. She placed her order and when the man returned with her drink, it appeared to be nothing but ale.

He was mildly surprised. Not for nothing had he spent months in Tortuga. Not for nothing had he spent two weeks in Cecily's company, although each week was separated by two months at least. He had spent most of those weeks completely drunk, but he remembered enough. He liked to think he knew her.

And, knowing her as he liked to think he did, James had expected her to order rum, or bourbon, or whiskey. Cecily drank to get drunk, and she gravitated towards the hard and astringent forms of alcohol. She could drink him under the table, of this he was certain. Ale was never on her list of favorites.

Strangely enough, he found himself moving towards the bar. It was as though he was being pulled by a magnet, as though he were a compass needle and she was North. Strangely, terrifyingly, James suddenly wanted to talk to her.

He had nearly reached her side when Worchester came up to her. James paused, a few feet behind the pair.

"You were right," he heard the pirate man murmur in Cecily's ear. "The man is clearly obsessed with ye."

She grinned at him in her cheeky way. "Well, who can blame him, really? Let's face it: I'm irresistible."

"No, ye're _egotistical_," Skip retorted. "Sounds the same, but it's an entirely different ocean."

Cecily smirked. "Skip, I don't know what I'd do without yer sarcasm and needlessly brutal honesty. What would any o' us do, in fact?"

"I often stay up long nights wonderin' the same," Skip agreed. "Pains me to imagine it. Better not die, eh?"

"No, ye sure as hell better not bloody die," Cecily returned, a tad more serious than the rest of the conversation had been.

Skip smiled at her before growing grave once again. "I'm serious," he insisted. "I'd watch out fer Easton. Seeing as most of yer fleet is composed of men ye… er… well, slept with, he's sure to be on the fight. Strikes me as the jealous type."

"Ye're the jealous type." Cecily snapped.

Skip grinned. "True, but only rationally."

"What is it with ye men and yer infuriating words of wisdom today?" Cecily half growled, slightly exasperated. "It's like ye either think I can't take care o' meself, or ye're just kissin' me arse. Which is it?"

Skip grinned. "Well, ye know me, Cecily. Anything to do with yer arse and I'm there."

"Pig," Cecily retorted, slugging him playfully in the arm. He grinned, slugging her back, and then moved on down the bar, taking a seat beside Ronan Liberte.

James watched him leave, and then closed the distance between him and Cecily. He had just sat down at the bar when Jack Sparrow appeared from behind him and leaned into Cecily's ear.

"Well, I would just like to congratulate ye for using yer womanly charms to trick unsuspecting men into yer service," he announced. Cecily whirled around and glared at him. Sparrow pushed on.

"Cold, cruel, and wicked, yes, but mightily impressive," he finished. "Good job, all around. Proud to call ye my commodore."

Cecily gave the man a frosty smirk. "I have a feeling yer goin' to be annoyin' the bloody sanity out o' me for the duration we're together, aren't ye?" she asked.

"Aye, well, it's what I do fer everyone," he replied solemnly. "Wouldn't be fair to give ye special treatment, would it?"

Cecily glowered after him as he turned from the bar and sashayed over to the table he shared with Will Turner.

"That's it," she growled to herself, taking a large gulp from her mug. "I'm drinking myself to sleep tonight."

James smiled softly. "I would advise against that," he said, and Cecily turned to him, as startled as she'd been when Sparrow had spoken. "If we're to leave early tomorrow as you suggested, you'll need a clear head."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I gave up needin' a daddy a long time ago," she informed him. "I'm nearly thirty, after all."

"Really?" he asked dryly. "I thought you were older."

Cecily actually appeared offended for a moment – but only a moment. A grin spread across her face and she threw her head back, laughing out loud. "I forgot ye were funny."

"You forgot I was funny?"

"You're surprised? Ye been a regular stick in the mud since I picked ye up."

"I'm a Commodore again. I have duties – to my men, to the King, to…"

"Ye're a renegade sailor," she interrupted him. "Your duties are over now; ye're plotting betrayal against the Crown."

James bowed his head, feeling his jaw tick. "Maybe so," he ground out from behind clenched teeth. "But that's for a good cause. And don't think I won't frame Beckett up and down for all this."

Cecily turned to him, surprised. She squinted up her eyes, as though reappraising him. "Always knew ye were a pirate," she said finally.

James chose not to take offense. The bartender placed a mug of ale in front of him as well, and he took one tiny sip.

She sighed, taking a heavy gulp of her own drink. "James," she announced tiredly. "I think I made a mistake."

"Sparrow and Barbossa will be difficult to handle," he agreed. "But in the long run, you'll be glad to have had the _Pearl_ on your side."

"Not what I meant," she replied. "I think I made a mistake in general. Maybe I should have just run off, ye know? Gone to the Mediterranean. Or maybe Singapore. India, even." She fell into a contemplative quiet for a mere moment, and then grinned in his direction. "Ye know where I haven't been yet? Madagascar."

James gave her a small smile. "You said so yourself; that would never have worked. Beckett would have chased you to World's End and back."

Cecily sighed, the cheeky grin fading. "I know."

They fell quiet. Cecily drained her ale and stood up. "I'm heading back, "she announced, winking. "Have fun. Don't fall into yer old habits."

He glowered at her. She laughed at him, and then ambled to the exit, disappearing into the dark street.

James watched her go, marking her grave and quiet demeanor. Then he returned his gaze to the bar, and his eyes fell on the empty ale glass. In many ways, Cecily O'Connor was very much the same from the last time he'd met her; and in other ways, she was very different.


	8. I Need You

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her summer break.

* * *

Chapter 10: I Need You

They'd sailed out of St. Lucia several days ago and Cecily was spending any free time she had sitting at her desk and staring at her map. The _Savage Beauty_ had finally stopped at Georgetown for reasons unknown, and Cecily hoped hard as hell that he would stay there, at least long enough to allow her to catch up.

Tanner was a problem. Tanner was always a problem, actually. For starters, she was convinced he was running away from the Caribbean in order to avoid the war on piracy, right when she needed him to win the fight against Beckett.

And he would not be easy to convince. He was not like Jack Sparrow and Barboussa, who had personal scores to settle. He wasn't under Beckett's thumb like James was, nor did he have Matthews' hero complex. He didn't view the sea as something that needed to be honored and protected like Ronan did, and he wasn't always gunning for a showdown, like Skip. And no matter how much he might or might not care about her, he wasn't desperate to prove it to her like poor, lovesick Nathaniel.

He was about self-preservation, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. All pirates were about self-preservation. In fact, despite Matthews' little digs about her possibly having a hero complex herself, Cecily had started this rebellion out of self preservation as well. She loved her ocean, and she loved her freedom, and slowly but surely those things were being taken away from her. And no one stole from Cecily O'Connor; Cecily O'Connor stole from everyone else. Plus, no matter what Tanner thought, there was nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide. Beckett was in charge of the ocean now and he would always find them. So Cecily was going to find him first. It was their only option and she knew it. Fight back now before he got too powerful and destroy him while they had the chance. There was no other way to save all of their lives.

She could only hope to convince Tanner of that. Because if he didn't see how this could possibly keep him alive better than his run and hide plan, she was up shit creek without a paddle. He would reject her. And there would be no other part of his nature to appeal to.

On top of her concern that he would be impossible to coerce, Cecily was also just plain nervous to see him. She always was. Tanner did that to her. And she didn't like it, not one bit. Well, she liked it a little, she'd allow, but for the most part it wasn't a pleasant sensation. Cecily liked to be the one calling the shots, and with Tanner, she wasn't always sure she was. She _really_ didn't like that.

The days passed slowly. They got closer to Georgetown, but Tanner's ship pulled out. Cecily put on speed. They were almost to the Amazon Delta when one night, only shortly after nightfall, the pirate fleet came in sight of the _Savage Beauty_. Cecily wrung all the speed out of her ship that she could, not caring if the other vessels couldn't keep up. Of course, the _Pearl_ was actually faster than everyone, but Cecily would _not_ ask Sparrow _or_ Barboussa to go ahead and catch Tanner for her. That was out of the question.

She had the crew run up the white flag, and all the other ships followed suit. They were fast approaching the _Savage Beauty_, and Tanner seemed to accept the inevitable. He slowed down and ran up his own white flag. When Sandra screamed over to Tanner's first mate for permission to board, she got it. There was no resistance as Cecily boarded the ship, followed shortly after by the other captains in her fleet. There was also no Tanner.

"Geoffrey," Cecily nodded to the first mate. Geoffrey nodded solemnly back. "Where's yer Captain?"

Geoffrey wouldn't meet her eyes. He fidgeted a lot, and then nodded at what looked like the cabin boy. The kid ran off down below.

The atmosphere was tense and silent. It hadn't been this way when Cecily had approached the others. Even Sparrow and Barboussa had been more humorous than ominous. The situation was so obviously strained that for once she heard no comments from anyone, not even Skip.

Finally, the cabin boy scurried back on deck. He was followed by a slower, older person. When he stepped into the lamplight, Cecily saw at once that it was Tanner.

Tanner Hartford had long red hair and a patch of beard on his chin. His eyes were steely, and he seemed permanently careless, as though he didn't give a damn about anything or anybody. This was, for the most part, an entirely accurate impression. Cecily swallowed, although she kept her nerves unnoticed, and said in a quiet voice, "Hello, Tanner."

He nodded at her, and replied, also in a quiet voice, "Hello, Cecily."

His accent was British, but was slightly more elegant than most pirates. It wasn't even close to Norrington's voice, of course, but it definitely overshadowed the accents of the other pirates present. This only made him seem even more nonchalant.

"Ye're awfully outta the way, Tanner," Cecily continued, almost conversationally. "Runnin' from something?"

She was obviously hinting at his apparent cowardice, but Tanner didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. "What makes ye say that, Cecily?"

She shrugged. "Just an awful coincidence, is all. For years, ye kept to the Caribbean, and now that there's a threat, ye seem to have packed up and run off."

Tanner shrugged. "These things happen."

He was maddening. "Lucky I found ye," she went on. "Or else ye would o' missed out on an offer that's truly… once in a lifetime."

"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "What would that have been?"

"Wits. Blood. Freedom. All very inspiring. And ye get to be a part o' it. Imagine that, Tanner. Ye get the honor o' goin' down in history."

"Thank ye for thinking of me," he smirked. "But I never was big on being a part of things."

"This is different," Cecily replied. "This could save yer life."

"All right," Tanner said, looking slightly amused. "I suppose an offer like that deserves a hearing. Come into my office," he turned, leading the way below. "And leave yer business partners, if ye will."

"Oh, I will," Cecily agreed, following him. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to leave me business partners."

Her so-called business partners grumbled at her comment, but didn't press the matter. Everyone followed orders and stayed on deck while Cecily and the other captain disappeared below.

Cecily stepped into Tanner's office. He closed the door behind them, and leaned against it, arms folded. "Well, let's hear it, Cecily," he said, staring her down. "What did ye come to sell this time?"

Cecily smirked. "Ye were never a dull one, Tanner, so I'm sure ye've figured it out. I come sailing behind ye, with six bloody ships in tow, lookin' to make ye an offer ye can't refuse? And all this time, ye were running far away from the Caribbean, so I'm sure ye know what was on those waters. And if ye do, then ye know I came to drag ye back into exactly what ye were running away from. Tell me, Tanner. What _were_ ye running away from?"

Tanner held the stare, unashamed. "Sea's a changing, Cecily. Man's got to keep his ass alive somehow."

"I agree," she replied. "That's why I'm here. Ye can run, Tanner, but ye can't hide. It's Beckett's ocean now, and he'll find ye. We only have one chance. We have to fight."

"Well, I don't know about that, Cecily," Tanner replied slowly and deliberately. "Always was the non-confrontational sort."

"And I was always the 'work alone' sort," Cecily countered. "Ye're right, Tanner. The sea's a changing. Maybe we ought to change with it."

"We aren't the sort to change easily, either," he rebuffed.

"We aren't the sort to _die_ easily," Cecily shot back. "If ye want to play that game."

Tanner pushed himself up off the door and brushed past her on his way to the desk. "We fight," he said, "We may lose. We lose, we die."

"We don't fight," Cecily returned. "We _will_ lose. And we _will_ die."

Tanner didn't reply. He leaned against his desk, apparently fascinated by his very own ceiling.

"I came all this way," Cecily continued. "Because I need an eighth ship to defeat Beckett. And I was hoping ye'd be me eighth."

"I'm not like those other men ye got out there, Cecily," Tanner said. "I don't think ye own me just cause ye slept with me. I ain't goin' to jump to prove myself to ye. I ain't gonna come along just cause ye batted yer lashes and pouted yer lips and asked me real nice."

"No," Cecily agreed. "But ye will come out of self preservation. That's what I'm bankin' on, darling, yer sense o' self preservation. Because I'm hopin' ye will realize that when Lord Cutler Beckett has the heart o' Davy Jones in his hands, he will stop at nothing until he has used that powerful possession to its fullest. He will squeeze everythin' out o' it he can. And that will include our heads on a pike."

Tanner met her eyes again, but said nothing. Cecily continued, "Ye want to protect yerself, Tanner? Step up and protect yerself. Put down the threat instead o' runnin' from it." He didn't react. Cecily pushed on, doing her damnedest to get under his skin. "Be a man for once. Actually do something 'bout yer life instead o' coasting through it."

Tanner didn't knock anything over, didn't throw anything, didn't yell. But Cecily knew she'd hit a nerve, because he leaned real close into her face and replied, "What would you know about being a man?"

"More than most women," Cecily shot back. "All those men out there, on yer deck, waiting fer _me_? They answer to _me_. _I'm_ in charge."

"Ye always did need to be in charge," he provoked her.

"Tanner," Cecily said, trying to diffuse the escalating situation. "I'm in charge because no one else wanted to step up and take Beckett on. No one was going to take control o' their own destinies and fight back. This isn't some sort o' power play for me. This is a war. This is about freedom. This is about us and our kind, all of our lives, and it's about the sea. I'm asking ye to do this, not fer me, and not fer anyone else, but fer ye. Because ye got to fight fer yerself, Tanner. Ye're the only one who will."

Tanner stared at her for a moment. "Ye always had a way with words, Cecily," he returned. "But I'm not biting the line." He made to leave.

Now, it's been mentioned once before that Cecily O'Connor does not take no for an answer. Ever. And no matter what the situation was with Tanner, he was certainly no exception. He opened the door only slightly before Cecily slammed it closed again, and then immediately slammed Tanner into it. "What the bloody hell is the matter with ye?" she growled. "Ye goddamn coward! Fighting back against Beckett is the only way ye even have a _chance_ at keeping yerself alive, and ye won't take it! Ye think ye're so bloody smart, that ye have it all figured it out! Ye're a fool, Tanner! He's going to find ye, one way or another. So make him find ye on yer own terms!"

Tanner stared at her again, and said nothing. Cecily returned the stare and the silence. Finally, he broke it. "Why don't ye just say it?" he asked.

"Say what?" she snapped.

"Ye know what."

"Fine!" she exploded, shoving him into the door again. "Fine! Ye want me to say it? I'll say it! I need you, Tanner! All right? I bloody need ye! Are ye happy now?"

"Yes," he replied.

They didn't say anything. Cecily glared at him furiously, and he just stared back at her in the same mild way he always did. Once again, he broke the silence. "Fine," he said. "I'll help. I'll join your bloody fleet, I'll help stop Beckett. I'll fight for my freedom, I'll make him find me on my own terms, all those things ye so eloquently said, I'll do them. But don't make me regret it. Don't make me wish I'd run when I had the chance."

"Ye won't," Cecily snarled. It was sort of a promise, but it came out sounding like a threat. "Ye won't regret it, Tanner. Ye'll bloody thank me when it's all over."

Tanner smirked. "Unlikely."

* * *

Cecily and Tanner came back on deck where Tanner's crew and Cecily's "business partners" were anxiously awaiting them. Cecily surveyed her fleet, feeling rather proud of herself for engineering everything so well. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted.

Then she noticed something on the _Black Pearl_ that she found a tad unsettling.

"Back to yer ships, men," she grunted. They all followed orders. "Except fer ye two," she snarled, pointing at the captains of the _Pearl_. "Barboussa, Sparrow, ye're comin' with me."

They exchanged looks, but followed Cecily back aboard her ship. "Me office," she grunted over her shoulder. They followed her inside.

Jack surveyed the woman pirate's office. One thing he noticed immediately was the large Japanese screen shielding her desk from view.

"I couldn't help but notice," Cecily began. "That yer ship seems to be crewed almost entirely by Asians. Care to explain that?"

"What's to explain?" Jack replied. "So we have a lot of Asians. I like Asians. Do ye not like Asians? Bit racist, wouldn't ye agree?"

"Well, I just thought it an odd coincidence is all," Cecily said, staring him down. "Since I seem to remember a certain voodoo priestess telling me that _ye_ were dead, and that _ye_," (here she pointed at Barboussa) "Had gone to Davy Jones' locker to bring _him,_" (she jerked her thumb at Jack) "Back. And, well, here ye are. With a ship full of Asians. And see, I find that interesting cause now that I recall, it seems to me that in order to get to World's End, one would have to get their hands on some navigational charts that just happen to be in the possession of a pirate whom we all know and love named Sao Feng; who, coincidentally enough, happens to be from Singapore. So, obviously, ye had to go through him to get those charts. And, well, o' course _ye_, Barboussa, needed a ship and a crew at the time, so o'course ye would try to get one o' Sao Feng's. And it looks to me like ye accomplished that, 'cause I see a ship full o' Asians, who I'm guessin' are all from Singapore."

Barboussa laughed a little. "And why would ye be concerned about a small, inconsequential detail like that?"

"Ye are workin' with Sao Feng," she growled. "So why are ye here with me?"

Barboussa again laughed a little. "Well, Sao Feng isn't really the type to build a fleet and go after Lord Becket. No, that, m'dear, is more yer area. Which is why we've come to find ye. Because we're fighting the same battle ye are."

"That remains to be seen," Cecily snapped. "Those charts and that crew, and whatever ship ye had at one point, did not come cheap. What did ye promise Sao Feng, and when am I goin' to have to worry about him comin' to collect it?"

"Well, for that, I'm afraid ye'll have to talk to Will Turner," Barboussa replied. "He was mum on the conditions ye speak of."

"Turner? And here I was thinking ye two lovely pains in the arse were captains o' the _Pearl_," Cecily snarled. "What does Turner have to do with it?"

"Turner convinced Sao Feng to hand over those charts and the ship ye mentioned," Barboussa explained greasily. "Whatever leverage he used he didn't deem fit to share with the rest o' us."

Cecily glowered at the man. "Then I shall have to have a talk with Mr. Turner won't I?" She said the sentence as though it was a question, but it wasn't. It was clearly a threat. "Follow me, gentlemen. _We're_ going back to yer ship."

* * *


	9. Trying Cecily's Patience

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her winter break.

Rating: M

AN: All right, so I decided to borrow a little from the third movie and throw Sao Feng into the plot a little because when I really started thinking about it, I decided I couldn't really leave him out. Too many plot holes. Although, I'm changing a lot that had to do with Sao Feng, because I still have my own plot that I'm following here.

PS: Thanks to QOTRS for the reviews!

* * *

Chapter 11: Trying Cecily's Patience

The crew of the Black Pearl buzzed when Cecily came aboard with its two captains. It was clear from the look in the pirate commodore's eyes that something was very wrong... and that whatever it was, she was blaming the _Pearl _for it. Looking rather amused by the situtation, the crewmembers sent by Sao Feng exchanged looks and talked amongst themselves about what sort of trouble their captains might have gotten them into. The rest of the crew was more concerned. Pintel and Rigetti looked scared, which was reasonable, because they were in fact scared of most things, and Captain O'Connor was fairly frightening even if you weren't scared of most things. Elizabeth frowned in a way that didn't suggest perplexion, but rather calculation, Gibbs tried to catch Jack's eye to figure out what was going on, and Will came running over, looking quite confused as to why he was being beckoned by Captain O'Connor.

She held the door to the office open for him, and then followed him inside, slamming the door shut in Sparrow and Barboussa's faces. The two exchanged a look, and seemed, for the moment, to be united.

Inside the office, Will was frowning again, and Cecily was glowering – again. She sized him up and then stared him down. "What did ye promise Sao Feng?" she demanded suddenly.

Will's face betrayed his surprise – and his guilt. "Well," Cecily growled into Will's silence. "Answer the question, boy."

"What makes you think I promised him anything?" Will asked as innocently as he could.

"Because Barboussa just told me that the only reason he got a hold o' this crew and the charts that lead to World's End was through ye," Cecily snarled. "And although I don't entirely trust Barboussa, the look on yer face won me over."

Will looked to the floor for a moment, and then looked back up at the pirate captain, meeting her eyes without a flinch. "I promised him nothing you could give," he returned. "So I don't see why it's of consequence to you."

"It's o' consequence to me," Cecily snapped. "Because if Sao Feng suddenly shows up lookin' to collect, it pulls me fleet into _yer_ business! I let the _Pearl_ onto me fleet because I needed another ship and I thought she would be a valuable asset, not because I thought she would turn out to be detrimental to me venture, and here I am, discovering that detrimental happens to be exactly what this ship and her crew are. Ye tell me what ye promised Sao Feng and when he's comin' for it so I can prepare in advance for the pain in the arse it's sure to cause me!"

"It doesn't matter what I promised him," Will returned. "Because I don't have it. I lied to him. He assumed I had it, and I let him think he was correct in his assumption. And since I can't uphold my end of the bargain, I sent him to meet me on the opposite end of the ocean. He's going in the wrong direction, Captain O'Connor. We aren't going to have to worry about him."

"I'll decide if we don't have to worry about him," Cecily shot back. "Ye're going to tell me what ye promised him, or I swear I will…."

"Look, Captain O'Connor, I've done my best not to make trouble for you, and I've joined your cause," Will said desperately. "Isn't that enough? Don't I have a right to any privacy?"

"Privacy?" Cecily snorted. "No, ye don't have any right to privacy. Not on my time! Not when it's risking the necks o' every person on this fleet! Ye bleedin' tell me what's what, or I'll send this tub back to the Locker!"

"Look, I needed the _Pearl_, all right?" Will exclaimed. "I needed this ship and I need your fleet. I need it so I can get that heart back from Beckett. I need to stab it, I need to kill Jones. I need to free my father!"

Cecily stared at him. Ever since she'd heard Will's last name, the familiarity of it had been nagging at her. Now, she was sure that her initial suspicions had been correct. "So ye _are_ Bootstrap's boy," she murmured quietly, after a moment of silence. "Thought ye might be, but ye never can be sure. Turner's a rather common name, ye know."

Will swallowed. "You know my father?"

Cecily shook her head. "No, I don't know him. Just the stories. Yer father's a legend in these parts, ye know that?"

Will nodded.

Cecily sighed, pacing the office. "Ye know what ye're settin' out to do, don't ye? What stabbing that heart entails?"

Will nodded.

"Ye don't just off the bastard and move on, ye know? The _Dutchman's_ got to have a captain. Ye stab the heart, and ye got to replace it."

Will nodded again. "I know."

Cecily hesitated. "Ye prepared to make that sacrifice? Don't have, say, a pretty blond pirate lass waitin' to marry yer sorry arse?"

Will looked away at that. "Does she know what ye're planning to do?" Cecily pressed.

Will met her eyes again. "Elizabeth doesn't know much of anything about me these days, nor I about her."

Cecily sighed again. "Well, that's healthy. Look Turner, I still want to know what ye promised Sao Feng, but I can see that ye ain't going to give it up. Most people, well, they'd be in trouble, but ye…. Well, for some reason, I trust ye. Ye're like Matthews and Ronan. Something about ye…. Well, let's just say ye don't seem like the lying type. At least, not the good at lying type." She turned to leave the office. "Don't prove me wrong," she said just before passing through the door.

On the other side of the door, she met with Barboussa and Sparrow, who jumped quickly (and guiltily) out of her way. They had obviously been caught eavesdropping. Cecily fixed them with a nasty glare. "Ye two," she spat. "Are tryin' me last nerve. Now listen up and listen good. Ye're here to be a help, not a disservice. And this little endeavor we're on has to be as secret as possible, ye understand? Discretion and a low profile are key to this being a success. So let's just say ye better shape up. Because I can't have ye gallivanting all around the ocean, blowin' me cover. If I have to cut ye two thorns in me side loose, that cut will be literal, if ye get me meaning, darlings."

"Ye're as clear as crystal," Jack returned. "Or air, or clean water, or glass or…."

"What me wordy colleague o'er here is trying to say," Barboussa interrupted. "Is that we understand ye perfectly, Captain O'Connor. No worries here."

Cecily glared at them some more and then returned to her own ship. All around the two pirate captains, their crew, and the crews of their neighboring ships, prepared to sail on. Sparrow and Barboussa shared another look - a look that, if Cecily had seen, would have made her very seriously doubt their claims to understand.

* * *

The eight ship fleet sailed back up around South America and returned to the Caribbean. Cecily kept a watchful eye on the only pin that remained in her map. Lord Cutler Beckett was now in the area of Jamaica, but appeared to be sailing in their general direction.

Finally, when it appeared that the her fleet would meet the Navy convoy in a matter of days, Cecily decided to make berth at the closest port: a small fishing town on the coast of one of the Antilles. It was time to talk strategy.

Shortly after docking, Cecily left the _Sunrise _in the care of Sandra and headed off into the night. She visited all eight ships in her fleet in order to tell the captains to meet on board her own ship in half an hour's time to discuss how to defeat Beckett.

The last ship she came to was Tanner's. He was hiding below, in his quarters. "All the captains are getting' together in half an hour's time," she announced in a low voice. Even though she had snuck up on him, he didn't jump in surprise at hearing her speak. "On the _Sunrise_. We're discussing how to take Beckett's fleet when we catch up to him."

"All right," Tanner replied, not looking up from the book he was engrossed in.

"Are ye comin?" Cecily pressed.

"Yeah, I'll be over," he replied.

Cecily rolled her eyes. She knew how this was going to work. Half an hour later, his nose would still be in that same goddamn book, and she'd have to start the meeting without him. "Ye better be over," she replied. "It's bloody important." Then she left.

Tanner read only a little further in his book before he got up and followed her. He caught up to the pirate commodore as she stepped off his gangplank. "Why is it that ye always think I'm incapable of being where I need to be when I need to be there?"

"Because ye are," Cecily said shortly. "Sorry, Tanner, but that's just facts. Ye do it constantly."

"Is that bitterness?"

"No," Cecily replied. Something in her voice convinced him she wasn't faking. She truly wasn't bitter; she was just stating what she knew to be true about his personality. "Ye can't help it. That's just the way ye are."

"Ye're not much better," he countered. Although it seemed like it should turn into an argument, there was no bitterness in Tanner's voice either. "Ye're real good at vanishing."

Cecily nodded. "Aye. I am."

They walked back to her ship in silence. As they started up the gangplank of the _Sunrise_, Tanner began, "Why are ye always so…."

Cecily shushed him by putting up her hand. She was staring at the windows of her office. The lights were on, and her door was open. Cecily's door was never open.

"Someone's snoopin' in me office!" she whispered in outrage. The nerve of whoever it was, going in there and looking through her private things. How dare they!

Tanner didn't reply. He stared at her, and then at the office. Then he crossed his arms and leaned against the mast, prepared to enjoy the show.

Cecily stormed in through the open door. There, hunched over her desk, completely oblivious to her presence, were two raggedy, dimwitted pirates she at once recognized from the _Pearl_. If she recalled correctly, she believed their names were Pintel and Rigetti.

"I don'ts feel right about this," Rigetti was stuttering nervously. "Captain O'Connor would be right mad if she founds us in here, looking through her things and other such private lady whats-its."

"Aye, but she's not _goin'_ to finds us, is she?" Pintel returned.

"But I don'ts even understands what all this papers about," Rigetti continued. "It looks like a map, but it don't make no sense to me."

"That's cause ye can't read, ye moron!"

"So?" Rigetti defended himself. "I can sees the pictures! My depth perception's a little off, but I can gets the gist o' it all."

Pintel rolled his eyes. "Obviously, this map's what this here lady captain's been hidin', since it's on the desk behind the screen like Captains said it was! That makes the infernal thing important! So that's why we gots to steal it…."

"If ye lay one greasy finger on me perfect, unsoiled map and smudge it all up, I'll cut yer soon to be bleedin' fingers off!"

The two pirate men froze due to sudden, paralyzing fear. The Irish accent was unmistakable. Captain O'Connor had caught them snooping. And she was right mad, indeed.

* * *

On deck, the other pirate captains were arriving for the meeting of the fleet. Tanner was slightly surprised to see all of them present and accounted for, having figured at least one of them for being inside Cecily's office, but he supposed one of them must have sent their henchmen. They were all there, looking as innocent as pirates can look.

Captains Sparrow and Barboussa were looking particularly innocent, Tanner couldn't help but notice. Too innocent, if he had anything to say about it. Which Tanner didn't. Tanner never had much to say at all.

"_Who sent ye?!" _a loud, female, Irish voice thundered from Cecily's quarters. Two frightened yelps followed, followed by two more yelps of pain, and another thunder of, "_Who?!"_

Ah yes, Tanner thought to himself. So they _are_ the guilty ones. Captain Barboussa and Captain Sparrow were exchanging some very uneasy looks.

The door to Cecily's office flew open and slammed into the wall. The captain herself came storming out of it, dragging two very frightened pirate men by their ears. She tossed them at the horde of captains that had gathered on her ship. The horde artfully dodged the human missiles, and Pintel and Rigetti fell to the hard wooden planks of the deck. "_Whose men are these?!"_ she roared.

No one dared to answer. The incensed look on Cecily's face got uglier with every passing second spent in silence. "_WHOSE MEN ARE THESE?!"_ she repeated, louder, angrier, and scarier than the first time. "_If someone doesn't tell me right this second who these men belong to, heads are goin' to roll!!"_

She again received no answer. She drew both her pistols and pointed them at Pintel and Rigetti, who whimpered and clung to one another. "_Starting with these!!" _she shouted.

Finally, of all people, Tanner spoke up. "Cecily, don't ye think that perhaps ye should approach this problem a bit more rationally?"

"_NO!!_" she snarled. _"WHOSE MEN ARE THESE?!"_

"Well they're not mine," Skip snapped. Although Cecily's initial entrance had actually scared the daylights out of him, he was quickly recovering, and so returning to his usual cantankerous self. "If I'd sent my men, they wouldn't have been so stupid as to get caught."

Cecily swiveled and leveled her pistols at him. _"What are ye implying, Skip?!"_ she thundered, advancing on him. Skip backed down – kind of.

"I ain't implying anything," he returned sourly. Cecily growled, and began pointing her guns at the whole group.

"_Who the hell do ye people think ye are?!"_ she bellowed.

No one made eye contact – mostly because everyone's eyes were too busy watching the barrels of her guns. Cecily stared at them all with a dangerous, slightly insane look in her eye.

"Ye don't like takin' orders?" she asked, her volume lowering cruelly. The softer, still incredibly furious tone of her voice was actually more frightening than the yelling. "Why, ye poor li'l babies. I'm terribly sorry; I'm such an inconsiderate _commodore_. After all, it's _my_ plan, _my_ idea, _my_ fleet. Why should _I_ have the final say so? Why that's just incredibly unfair. Wouldn't ye agree, Sparrow?"

She swiveled suddenly, her pistols pointed directly at the dreadlocked pirate captain. Jack's eyes widened, and he pointed at Barboussa. "Why are ye wavin' those at me?" he asked. "He's ten times as untrustworthy as li'l ol' me. Anyone will tell ye that."

Cecily pointed one pistol at Barboussa, whose yellowed eyes widened as well. However, much to Jack's dismay, she kept the second gun trained on him. "I'm sure Barboussa would agree, then. Both o' ye would agree. Or perhaps ye only agree because ye believe someone _else_ should get the final say so, that someone else being, perhaps, one o' ye?"

Barboussa laughed nervously. "Captain O'Connor, I assure ye, I don't have the faintest idea what ye might be talkin' about."

"Oh, really?" she asked.

"Nor I," Jack was quick to jump in.

"_Don't lie to me!!"_ she was back to shouting. _"These are YER men!! I KNOW these are YER men!! WHY are ye sendin' SPIES onto MY ship?! And incompetent spies at that?!"_

"If ye knew these were our men, why did ye bother askin' who they belonged to in the first place?" Jack asked rather snootily.

"_SHUT UP!!_" she bellowed. Jack shut up at once.

"Maybe," a very quiet, tentative suggestion was thrown into the ring. "If ye were a tad more upfront with yer men, they wouldn't have to send spies onto yer ship."

Cecily rounded on the speaker. Tanner. She moved one pistol away from the guilty pirate captains and leveled it directly between Tanner's eyes. "What did ye say?" she snarled threateningly.

Tanner glanced mildly at the pistol before continuing. "I'm just saying, Cecily. Sharing is caring."

Cecily's eyes narrowed. "Since when does anyone here do any _caring_?"

"Well, actually, Norrington and his li'l boyfriend o'er there do a lot of caring," Jack pointed out. "What with the Navy, and the law-abiding, and the morals, and other such nonsense."

Cecily moved the pistol directed at Sparrow and Barboussa so that it was instead pointed directly at Sparrow. "Shut up."

"I have a proposal," Matthews suddenly spoke up.

"I don't care," Cecily snarled.

"Perhaps if Commodore O'Connor would agree to share with us several of the mysteries that seem to surround our venture, all of us could agree to stop interfering with her leadership and to follow her orders," Matthews continued, ignoring Cecily's remark.

Cecily seemed to relax a little at hearing herself referred to as a commodore, although she was still angry and unstable. James, on the other hand, seemed slightly put out at _his_ title being applied to someone else, and a pirate at that.

"I could agree to that," Ronan announced. "Really, it is bad for business – the business here being our survival – to have an untowardly fleet that constantly challenges and disobeys their commodore. In reality, the vast majority of ye all should be ashamed o' yourselves. You put our lives in danger with all this tomfoolery. Had this been the behavior one o' yer crews was displaying, none o' ye could say that ye would put up with it. How, then, can ye expect Commodore O'Connor to tolerate such behavior from _ye_?"

Cecily looked mildly, and pleasantly, surprised. "Thank ye, Ronan."

"But o' course," Ronan continued, looking directly at Cecily. "While an argumentative fleet is bad for battle, a secretive commodore is bad for camaraderie."

Cecily's eyes narrowed at him. "Go to hell, Ronan."

"In the Navy," James announced. "A secretive authority figure is not justification for mutinous subordinates. You are to follow orders because they are orders. The only reason to do anything but is when the orders and their issuer are corrupt, and I see no corruption in the way Captain O'Connor runs things."

Cecily stared at him. "Hold up a minute. Are ye actually on _my_ side, Norrington?"

"Yes, I am," he replied.

"Well, that's it then, I must be wrong," Cecily quipped.

"What's it going to be, then Cecily?" Tanner asked. "Are ye going to treat us like we're trustworthy?"

"None o' ye are trustworthy," Cecily returned. "That's the problem." Suddenly she sighed in aggravation. "All right, fine," she snapped, holstering her pistols violently. "Fine! Ye all want to be in on the big bloody secret? Fine! I'll show ye the big bloody secret!" She stormed into her office. Uncertain if they should follow, the other captains stood there, staring at one another in, well, uncertainty. "Are ye comin' or not?!" Cecily bellowed from within.

They quickly filed into her office. With an angry sweep of her arm, she knocked over the Japanese screen and sent it flying across the room. Her map was spread out on the desk, held still by several books and paperweights, with one solitary pin stuck in the old parchment.

"Ah," Jack said, rather disappointed. "A map."

"Not just any map," Cecily growled at him. "It's a special map."

"Ah, yes of course," Jack agreed, with the air of one only agreeing to avoid further debate on the topic. "A special map."

Cecily rolled her eyes at him, and then picked up a nail out of the tin on her desk. She held it high over the map, somewhere in the vicinity of Africa. "The _Bloody Sunrise_," she announced, and let the pin drop straight.

Of course, the pin didn't drop straight. It flew off to the side of the map, and stuck directly on the correct part of the Antilles island chain, exactly where the _Sunrise_ was moored.

"Oh," Jack said, mildly surprised. "Well, that's interesting."

"So this is the map your crewman spoke of," Norrington put in, and Cecily swore inwardly, having forgotten that Norrington had already known much more than she'd intended.

"And where did ye get such a useful trinket as this?" Barboussa inquired.

"Tia Dalma," Cecily replied shortly.

"Bet ye paid through the nose fer that," Jack said smartly.

Cecily glowered at him.

"Take that as a yes." Jack smirked.

"Wait, so _that's_ how ye knew where Beckett was and which direction he was headed?" Skip asked.

Cecily gave a curt nod.

Ship whistled softly. "Ye sure got an ace up _yer_ sleeve."

"Hey," Jack protested. "That stupid bloody rag is not anywhere near as amazing as my compass."

Barboussa rolled his eyes. "Why don't ye put a cork in it, Jack?"

"If ye're all quite through," Cecily snapped, glowering at them all. "I believe we have some battle plans to lay."

* * *


	10. Davy Jones Himself

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her summer break.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 12: Davy Jones Himself

All nine captains sat around one long table in the _Sunrise's_ galley, waiting for the meeting to begin. The scene on deck only moments before had been pushed under the rug for the time being, and everyone was sitting silently as Sally, the ship's cook, began passing around bottles of ale.

Once everyone had been given their drink and Sally had retreated up on deck, Cecily looked around the table through narrowed eyes. "All right," she announced. "Lord Beckett is getting closer to us with every passing day. Give it a few days more, and we're going to run headlong into his convoy. So, be'ore that happens, I'd like to have some sort o' plan outlined. Ye know, so there's less o' a chance that we all die."

No one said anything. Cecily continued, "Our fleet matches his, ship for ship. We have the element o' surprise goin' fer us, so he won't have time to gather reinforcements. We need to make this quick. We need to off him and get the heart back be'ore he has time to put out a hit on our heads. Surprise is crucial to our strategy. We can't afford to give him any warning at all."

"I think he may already have some," Matthews announced.

Cecily shot a look at him. "Really? Elaborate."

"Well, Skip Worchester just may be the first pirate captain to escape the Navy now that Jones' heart is in Beckett's possession," Matthews went on. "He's going to wonder how Worchester got away. He's going to assume he had help."

"Are ye implying," Skip growled. "That I couldn't possibly be counted on to get _meself_ out o' that mess? That I'm so incompetent a pirate captain that there's no way I could have sailed on through a hurricane? Is that what ye lot all think of me?"

Skip looked absolutely furious. There was nothing worse than a pirate captain who thinks he's just been insulted, except, of course, for an insulted pirate captain with serious anger management issues.

"Of course that's not what I'm saying," Matthews replied reasonably. "What I'm saying is that Beckett has an advantage over everyone on this ocean, an advantage that not many people could overcome. He's going to wonder how you pulled that off."

"Not to mention," Norrington spoke up. "That right now, two ships, a captain and a commodore are missing from the fleet of the Royal Navy. If that's not fishy, I don't know what is."

"Our disappearances are sure to have caused some mayhem, especially with all the soldiers we left behind bars for no apparent reason," Matthews added.

"Beckett will smell betrayal," Norrington said. "And he'll know that we've left for one reason and one reason only: to stop him."

"Not to mention he just lost one of the only members of the Navy that knew about the heart," Matthews pointed out.

"He'll know his secret's out," Norrington finished. "And he's not going to like that."

Cecily absorbed the information. In reality, it wasn't exactly a shock. They made excellent points, and it was an issue she herself had already contemplated. "Do ye think he'll be expectin' an attack o' this size?" she asked.

"Becket didn't get where he is by being under prepared," Norrington returned. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was expecting something even bigger."

Cecily nodded. "Has he had sufficient time to add to his convoy?"

Matthews shook his head. "Most of the fleet is spread out across all corners of the world, not just this particular ocean. Even if he had sensed this attack coming, I don't think there are enough ships in the area for him to have had time to increase his convoy size."

"That's just what I wanted to hear," Cecily replied, grinning slightly at Matthews.

"Well then, I think we'd better talk formation," Skip announced.

"Maybe," Nathaniel spoke up, breaking what had been a rather long silence. "The _Sunrise _ought to be in the center of the fleet, and the rest of us could surround it according to power and speed."

"Oh no, no, no, no," Cecily interrupted. "That's out o' the question, darling. The _Sunrise _is the flag ship. Flag ship always takes lead. Isn't that right, Norrington?"

"I have to agree with her," James said.

"As would I," Jack spoke up. "It makes sense that the _Sunrise_ be in the lead. After all, it's one of the fastest and most powerful ships of the lot here. In fact, I daresay that the only ship here that could stand up to it is _my_ ship, the _Pearl._ And with that in mind," Jack continued, suddenly brightening as though a light had gone on over his head, "_My_ ship, the _Black Pearl_ would _actually_ be the best candidate for being in the lead. So perhaps…."

"I don't think so," Cecily snapped. "Seeing as the _Sunrise_ is _my_ ship, and _I_ am in charge here, which would make _me _the lead, which would make _my _ship the _lead_ ship by default. Am I right, James?"

"Once again," Norrington announced. "I have to agree with her."

Cecily smirked at Jack. "Apologies, darling. Nice try, though."

Jack smirked back. "Then I demand second position."

"Ye got it," Cecily returned, which caused Jack to frown. That had been far too easy.

"May I inquire," Barboussa spoke up. "As to _why_ ye seemed to have acquiesced to our request?"

"Ye're the fastest, most powerful ship here," Cecily returned. "Ye think I'm an idiot?"

"Then seeing as my ship would come next as most powerful," Norrington put in pompously. "I demand to flank the opposite side of the _Sunrise_."

"If ye people don't stop demanding and start asking, I'm goin' to get real mad," Cecily said far too sweetly. "Don't any o' ye know the meaning o' please?"

"Please?" Jack frowned. "Is that even a word?"

Cecily shot him a nasty look and Jack decided to tone it down a bit.

"All right," Norrington returned stiffly. "Please."

"No problem, darling." Cecily smirked.

In a matter of minutes, positions had been assigned. A short but extremely loud argument broke out between Skip and Tanner about whose ship was the most powerful and who should get to go first, but since Skip was so much more quarrelsome and Tanner so much more apathetic, Skip won.

Cecily discussed battle tactics with the group. Mostly Norrington, Sparrow, and Barboussa shared their opinions with her, and everyone else just sort of nodded along, not really wanting to disagree with the apparent experts on the subject. It was late when the discussion finally ended and the meeting adjourned.

Cecily followed the other captains up on deck, which was probably more to make sure they all left rather than out of any politeness. As they all stepped out of the dark rooms below deck into the bright moonlight, a great splash was heard.

They all swiveled around to look out at the ocean. Much to everyone's disbelief, a large, barnacle covered ship burst from beneath the waves and came to float on top of the sea, directly beside the _Sunrise_. Only one ship was capable of something that impossible. They were being visited by the _Flying Dutchman_.

"Oh, bugger," Jack announced.

"What the hell is that?" Nathaniel Easton asked.

"_That_ would be the _Flying Dutchman_," was Norrington's rather dreary reply.

Ronan began murmuring something under his breath that sounded a lot like a prayer to the goddess of the sea.

Suddenly and silently, the tentacle faced one legged pirate captain and his fish like crew appeared on the _Sunrise_.

"Who…" Nathaniel began to ask another question, but was interrupted by Barboussa's gravelly tones.

"That there be Davy Jones himself," Barboussa announced, rather too enthusiastically.

Davy Jones surveyed the group before him, his blinky eyes looking dangerous, and his lips smacking threateningly. "I am here to discuss matters of business with Captain Cecily O'Connor," he announced in his Scottish accent.

Just about everyone stepped away from Cecily and pointed their fingers. She rolled her eyes and approached the mutated sea captain as though he looked just like a perfectly ordinary man.

"And exactly what matters would these be?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, approaching her in turn. They stood only inches apart now. "Ye be her?"

"Aye, I'm Captain O'Connor," she returned. "And just who the hell do ye think ye are?"

Davy Jones let loose a rumbling laugh that echoed throughout his crew. "Surely ye know Davy Jones, don't ye lass?"

Cecily tossed her hair and sniffed in a rather snobbish way. "I suppose I've heard o' ye be'ore," she returned. "Why exactly have ye come here to ooze all o'er me ship?"

"Cecily," Nathaniel cautioned softly from behind her. "Maybe ye should…."

"Maybe ye should hold yer tongue!" Cecily snapped. Easton fell silent.

Davy Jones let loose another rumbling laugh. "Now that's what I like to see," he crowed. "A captain who knows what she's doing! Total control! Congratulations," he leaned down into her face. "Ye've got talent, lass, real talent."

"Thank ye," Cecily returned. "But perhaps ye'd better not call me lass."

Davy Jones ignored the snipe. "I am here," he continued loudly. "To speak to ye about yer pirate fleet and the attack ye plan to stage on Lord Cutler Beckett!"

"What attack?" Cecily replied.

"What attack?" Jones laughed some more. "As though I wouldn't know the things percolating on me own ocean! Ye can't hide from me on the sea, lass, and don't ye forget it!" He leaned into her face again, and this time spoke without any trace of humor in his voice. "I _am_ the sea!"

Cecily made a face at the fishy odor of Jones' breath. "Well, ye certainly smell like it." she replied.

"Watch yer tongue," he snapped. "Yer lucky I don't blast ye all to me locker, or worse, tell Mr. Beckett what ye're up to."

"Oh, ye're threatening to tattle now, are ye?" Cecily returned. "Goin' to tell on me to Mummy?"

Jones stomped his peg leg, and created a nice round hole in Cecily's deck. Her eyes widened in both shock and anger. "What the bloody hell do ye think ye're doing?" she shouted.

"I'm here to offer ye a deal, lass, now don't make me regret it!" Jones shouted back. "I am the sea; I am the locker; I am _death_! And ye don't taunt death, lassie. Ye listen to it, and ye listen good. And ye take the deal death offers ye!"

"Well, why don't ye tell me exactly what sort o' deal ye're offerin', Captain Death," Cecily returned smartly. "And I'll be the judge o' whether or not I ought to be accepting!"

Davy Jones glowered at her. "My offer," he announced. "Is to conceal yer li'l uprising from Beckett. If ye're a real good li'l lass, I may even help ye fight. And when all is said and done, ye repay me my kindness by recovering my heart, and returning it to _me_."

"Stop one madman and return power to another?" Cecily asked. "What ye must take me for."

"Oh, I take ye for many things, but not a fool, Captain O'Connor," Davy Jones replied. "Ye are dealing with very powerful, very dangerous men, and ye can't risk losing the one advantage ye have o'er the man who poses the largest threat to ye – surprise. And if ye refuse me deal, lass, ye've done exactly that. Compromised yer advantage. Without surprise, missy, ye don't have even the tiniest o' chances winning against Lord Beckett."

Cecily stared him down. "Now look here, _darling_," she snarled. "If I hear ye refer to me as lass, lassie, or missy one more time, I'll take the other leg. In fact, anything other than Captain O'Connor is hereby unacceptable. And as for yer _deal_," she scoffed – before changing tunes entirely. "I accept it."

Davy Jones was so surprised to hear her accept his offer that he entirely forgot to be offended by Cecily's blatant display of disrespect. "Ye _what_?"

"Are yer tentacles growing into yer ears, Davy?" Cecily returned. "I said, I accept!"

Jones was torn. He was half furious and half appeased. Which, of course, mostly made him confused. "Ye accept?"

"Cecily," Skip suddenly cut in. "Are ye sure this is such a good idea?"

"Ye are making a deal with the devil," Ronan added. "You do not turn back from such deals. And they do not end well."

"Why, thank ye," Jones said, sounding quite tickled. "I've actually never met the devil, but he's always been a hero o' mine."

His eyes bored into Cecily's as he said this, in an obvious attempt at intimidation. Cecily would not be intimidated. This was not entirely to her credit. Although Davy Jones should, by all rights, intimidate her, her stubbornness refused to let him. Since Davy Jones could literally make or break her at this point, this actually seemed less brave and more stupid.

"I've had me final word," she snapped at her men. "I accept the deal. It's done."

Davy Jones extended his hand. Cecily grasped it without hesitation. Jones didn't shake, however. He simply engulfed her hand in his claw, and left it covered in something slimy, clear, and fish-like before pulling away.

"It is done," he agreed. "And let Mr. Sparrow explain to ye what I have awaiting those who don't hold up their end o' a bargain."

In an instant, Jones and his crew were gone. The _Flying Dutchman_ sank beneath the waves once again, leaving the _Sunrise_ and her fleet alone in the harbor.

Cecily stared at her goo covered hand in disgust. The other captains stared at her in silence. Finally, Nathaniel asked, "Are ye all right, Cecily?"

Cecily didn't reply, at once, just stared at her hand. "I… well, I feel… I don't know exactly…."

"Sullied and unusual?" Jack supplied. "Don't worry, luv, it fades with time."

Nathaniel turned to Jack. "Well?" he asked. "What exactly _does_ Jones have waiting for people who break their deals?"

"Oh, ye know," Jack returned loftily. "The usual. One hundred years at the mast aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, or of course, there's always the locker – not _too_ bad down there, a lot brighter than I thought it'd be…. Didn't really live up to the hype as far as I'm concerned, bit of a disappointment… of course, there _was_ the insanity…."

"Cecily," Nathaniel interrupted Jack, staring at her with horror. "What have ye done?"

"I've done what's best fer the fleet," she replied, wiping her hand on Norrington's jacket. Norrington grimaced. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Ye've doomed yerself," he returned.

"Oh, stop bein' so melodramatic," Cecily replied dismissively.

"He is right," Ronan announced. "I would have thought you Cecily, of all people, would know better than to strike a bargain with a creature such as Davy Jones."

"What would ye have had her done, then?" Tanner interrupted. "If she hadn't accepted, Beckett would have been informed of our plans, and then we'd be up shit creek without a paddle."

"We could have gotten more ships," Nathaniel argued. "We could have…."

"Please!" Norrington exclaimed, as though he was addressing the extremely dimwitted. "Do you have any idea how huge the Royal Navy _is_? Beckett would have gathered the whole fleet together instantly. It would be impossible for us to find enough pirates to match the entire Navy evenly. We would have never survived!"

"Not to mention," Jack put in, surprising everybody be being helpful. "With Davy Jones on the opposing side we could have all been sent right down to the locker, and let's face it. Nobody wants that. Unless, of course, ye do, in which case I would just like to point out that ye are clearly more insane than even I am. And that's extremely bloody crazy. Seriously, ye have no idea."

"All right, Jack," Barboussa intervened. "I think they get the picture."

"Even still," Ronan said, shaking his head. "No one wins when people gamble with demons. Cecily, I am afraid there is no returning from this."

"She had no choice," Skip announced. "Leave her be."

"There was no alternative," Matthews agreed. "She may well have just saved all our lives."

"Well, when ye've all finished talkin' about me like I'm not here!" Cecily snapped suddenly. Everyone fell quiet. "I'm not dead yet, m'darlings. Now, we have a fight to win, and I'm not goin' anywhere until it's o'er. And for the record, I haven't agreed to servitude _or_ time in the locker. So let's stop talking like I just signed a lease with Davy Jones or something. Agreed?"

Everyone mumbled their assent. "All we got to do," she continued. "Is go on like we've been planning and kill Beckett."

"But ye aren't really planning on giving Jones his heart back?" Ronan asked.

Cecily made no reply. "Everyone just head back to their ships and get some sleep. We set sail tomorrow!"

Everyone filed off the _Sunrise_, slightly less enthused about their mission than they had been just minutes before in the galley.

* * *


	11. The Bet

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies or theme park rides or anything else that Disney profits off of. I'm just a poor college student who's bored over her summer break.

* * *

Chapter 13: The Bet

Despite Cecily's orders, no one went back to their ship to get some sleep that night, not even Cecily. Instead, they filtered into the town to get something even more precious than rest – a drink.

All except James Norrington, who only went into one of the many taverns because Matthews wanted company. Eventually, after a few drinks, Lawrence went off to another part of the pub, leaving James all by his lonesome. He was just about to call it a night when the stool beside him suddenly became occupied.

"Well, hello, James," Cecily purred mockingly. "Can I buy ye a drink?"

"No, thank you, Captain O'Connor," Norrington returned stiffly. "I don't drink."

Cecily snorted. "Well, that's a lie if I've ever heard one. And believe ye me, I've heard some corkers."

"Anymore," Norrington snapped. "I don't drink anymore."

"Well, that's a pity," she drawled. "Why ever not?"

"Because," Norrington half growled. "In case you haven't noticed, I have a hard time controlling my drinking. I'd rather not reopen a door that I struggled to shut just a few months ago."

"Well, that's true," Cecily agreed almost amiably. "Ye were one 'o the worst drunkards I've ever seen. The drink was definitely yer weakness, darling."

"Oh?" Norrington replied, rather put off. "Maybe I don't do well when it comes to my liquor, but I'm not the only one with weaknesses, you know. You have one major one as well, and I noticed that you've kept away from it in the name of this venture much like myself."

Cecily snorted once again. "What are ye talkin' about, darling? I don't have any weaknesses."

"Oh, yes you do," Norrington argued. "Men."

"What about them?"

"They're your weakness," Norrington elaborated. "If one comes along with the right offer, and the right look, you just can't resist spending at least one night in bed with them. And even if you _do_ just walk away the next day and never look back, it doesn't change the fact that, in the moment, you can't _not_ indulge. It's your weakness, Cecily."

Cecily look appalled and quite insulted. "I beg yer pardon?" she exclaimed.

"You heard me."

"Men are _not_ me weakness," Cecily huffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please!" Norrington exclaimed. "Over half the fleet is men you've slept with!"

"That could happen to anybody!"

"I sincerely disagree with that!"

Cecily was momentarily at a loss for words, but only momentarily. "All I hear is ye trying to invite me back in the sack. And James? Yer pick up line needs work."

"Please," Norrington replied with a shudder. "That's the _last_ thing on my mind. But apparently not on yours. Seems that's the first thing that's _always_ on your mind. You can't escape it Cecily. You always want it. It's an addiction."

"Well, I suppose I ought to take yer word for it," Cecily returned almost cruelly. "Ye _would_ be the one to know all about addiction, wouldn't ye, James?"

"You are surrounded by men, including ones you've already proven your attraction to by already having engaged in trysts with them," Norrington smirked. "And you're obviously planning on drinking tonight. Temptation is everywhere. I'd like to see you _not_ give into it."

"And temptation is everywhere fer ye, too, Norrington," Cecily shot back. "Yer in a bloody bar, for the love o' yer mother! Drinks, drinks, all around ye. The rum, the ale, the mead, the port! It's everywhere, callin' yer name! I'd like to see _ye_ not give into temptation tonight."

"I propose a bet," Norrington said suddenly. "Five pounds says that you can't stay in port tonight without winding up in bed with at least one man."

"Fine," Cecily snapped. "And five pounds says _ye_ can't stay in port tonight without having a drink or two. And then maybe goin' a li'l too far."

"Deal," Norrington extended his hand. Cecily shook on it.

"Deal," she agreed. The bartender approached just then. "Bourbon," she told him.

The man reached for a shot glass, but Cecily shook her head. "Uh-uh, darling, I want the bottle." As the man complied with her request, she turned to James with an evil smile. "Can I get ye anything, darling?"

Norrington rolled his eyes and walked off in a huff. Cecily's grin only widened.

* * *

As Norrington approached the table of Navy men in the back of the bar, Captain Matthews looked up from the card game he was playing with some of his crew and gave his old friend a slightly tipsy grin. "Hello, James!" he crowed. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Fine," Norrington returned stiffly.

"Care to join us?"

"No, I don't think I will," Norrington said. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be headed back to the _Dauntless_."

"What? You can't go!" Matthews exclaimed. "You haven't even had a drink!"

"Yes, and it's going to stay that way, I'm afraid."

"Don't be ridiculous," Matthews replied, clapping his friend on the back. "You can't leave without at least _one_ drink. This may be our last night in port alive!"

Norrington shrugged.

"Come on, James, one won't kill you!"

Norrington looked over to the bar, where Cecily was still seated, watching him with amusement. His resolve strengthened. "No, it's not a good idea."

"Please?"

His resolve weakened slightly. "Well, I suppose one game of cards wouldn't hurt."

"That's our man!" Matthews triumphed. "Have a seat. You, deal him in."

Cecily turned away from Norrington and focused once more on her bourbon. If Norrington thought for one minute that he was actually going to be able to resist taking a drink in the midst of the already tipsy Navy men seated around that card table, he was in serious denial. Those five pounds may as well have already been in her pocket.

She had downed nearly half the bottle by this time, and things were starting to go south in the basic motor skills department. Cecily, however, had a very high tolerance for the drink, and knew she had a long ways to go before she woke up regretting anything.

So she kept on drinking. She hadn't had a decent drink since she'd set out on this suicidal venture, and with the numerous pains in the neck it had brought along with it, she had desperately needed one for weeks now.

* * *

It was barely an hour since the bet had been made, and Norrington couldn't help but notice that Cecily had left the bar. He was having a good old time with the boys, who kept trying to force drinks on him. As yet another attempt to force a round on him was made by his new friends, mostly people who he'd almost never spoken to aboard his ship, James caved. It was just one drink, after all. He could control _that_. And what Cecily didn't find out wouldn't kill her.

It may not have been entirely honorable, welshing on a bet like that, but it was a far cry from handing the heart of Davy Jones over to Lord Beckett, and James figured he wouldn't lose sleep over it.

* * *

Cecily sauntered through the dark, crowded streets, quite drunk by this time, not really headed in any particular direction. Her feet just moved, and she let them, not really knowing or caring where she was going to end up.

She strode down to the harbor, and then up the gangplank of a ship, and headed straight into the captain's quarters. She was almost as shocked to realize where she had gone as he was to see her open his door.

"Is something wrong?" Tanner asked, looking up from his book.

Cecily shook her head. "Not really, no."

"Ye're drunk, aren't ye?"

"Incredibly so," she returned, not being able to help a slight smile.

He shook his head, a smile playing around his own lips as well. "What do ye want?"

She flopped down in one of his chairs. "I don't want a thing."

"Well, then, ye're going to be awful bored sitting there with nothing to do," Tanner returned.

She stared at him. He reached behind him and picked up another book, which he tossed in her direction. Cecily caught it.

"Ye can borrow that," he announced, returning to his book.

"That's awfully kind of ye," she returned, opening to the first page.

* * *

Cecily awoke the next morning, very early, just as the sun began to rise. The ceiling over her head wasn't hers, and as soon as her eyes fell on the unfamiliar beams, Cecily recalled the night before.

Turning her head to the right, she saw Tanner, fast asleep beside her. Cecily officially owed James Norrington five pounds.

It was not easy to admit that James knew her better than she knew herself, and Cecily was momentarily upset about what she'd done. But the regret soon wore off as she realized that it was fairly early in the morning and that maybe, just maybe, she could sneak back aboard the _Sunrise_ without Norrington ever knowing what she had done. It only took a few seconds to convince herself that the plan was a good one, and she began gathering her clothes, resolved on seeing it through.

As she dressed, Tanner woke up. "Leaving so soon?" he asked mildly. Cecily knew better than to consider that an invitation to stay.

"We've all of us got a busy day ahead," Cecily returned, shooting him only a momentary glance over the shoulder. "Ye'd best rouse your crew and start preparing to sail after I'm gone. I'll be giving orders on the way back to my ship for the others to do the same."

Tanner nodded. "I will."

Cecily finished dressing and gathered all her belongings. She turned back to look at Tanner, who was still in bed. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. Then she said, "Be ready to leave by nine."

Tanner smiled slightly. "Should I keep last night to myself?"

"I don't give a damn what ye do," Cecily replied almost mildly. "Just don't spread this to Norrington. I've got five pounds riding on it."

Tanner laughed. "You got it. Norrington doesn't find out."

"Thank ye," Cecily said, smiling slightly too. "Nine," she reminded him, and left the _Savage Beauty_.

* * *

It was half past nine, and Cecily was starting to get ticked. Despite explicit orders, Norrington's ship was not ready to sail. All the other ships had managed to keep to her timeline, but the _Dauntless_ seemed to think that the tiny pirate fleet had all the time in the world to wait for it.

In a fury, Cecily stormed down the harbor to board the _Dauntless_, any lingering guilt she may have been feeling regarding her decision to cheat Norrington out of five pounds completely gone now. She stomped up the gangplank, where, to her surprise, she found Captain Matthews standing on deck, issuing orders that should have been coming from Norrington.

"Larry," she snapped, impatiently. "What the bloody hell is goin' on here?"

Matthews froze, and then turned to face her somewhat reluctantly. "Commodore O'Connor," he said, smiling tightly. "I'm very sorry about the delay. The _Dauntless _should be ready to sail in under fifteen minutes."

"Where the hell is Norrington?!" Cecily thundered.

Matthews winced. "Oh… he's around," he replied aloofly.

"He's _around_?" Cecily asked, so calmly it was scary. "Well, I'm certainly glad that the good Commodore is _around_. But why, pray tell, are _ye_ the one issuing the orders to prepare to sail? Isn't that something James should be doing while he's _around_?"

Matthews sighed, giving up, and pointed towards Norrington's quarters. Cecily turned on her heel and stormed to James' door, which she pounded on mercilessly.

A groan greeted her from within. Cecily proceeded to knock unceasingly on the door. "Norrington!" she bellowed. "Norrington, ye get yer lazy arse out here this instant!"

Another groan was heard, and some banging around. Cecily refused to wait one second longer, and threw the door open.

James Norrington was in a state of half dress, his chest quite bare, his wig in a ragged heap on the floor, his dark hair hanging loose around his face. There were deep purple circles around his eyes, which were quite bloodshot, and she could smell the liquor from the doorway.

"James Norrington!" Cecily shouted. "Ye ought to be ashamed! Lounging about yer quarters, barely dressed, at nine thirty in the morning! The fleet can't be waiting on your drunken arse all day, ye know!"

Norrington groaned, clutching his head. "All right, I agree. I've acted horribly, just please stop being so loud."

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" Cecily snapped, although she was actually quite enjoying Norrington's hangover. "Ye best get yer act together, Norrington, or I'll be handing over the reins to yer first mate!"

James rolled his eyes, pulling his shirt on over his head. "Fine. I was wrong. You were right. You're always right. I get it. I'm going. I'm not even bloody arguing about it. Just go back to your ship and stop yelling!"

"I want this tub ready to sail by ten, do ye hear me?" Cecily growled, turning to leave. "Don't make the mistake of allowing this to happen ever again!"

"Cecily," Norrington called after her. Cecily turned back to him.

"What?" she demanded.

He tossed a heavy pouch at her, which she caught. "I owe you five pounds, if I recall correctly," he said simply, and then returned to his dressing.

Cecily stood there, amazed at his gallantry. She stared at the bag, considered pocketing it, and then rolled her eyes, frustrated with herself. "Norrington," she said.

He turned back to her. She tossed the pouch back at him. "Let's just call it even," she replied. Then she turned to go.

"Wait," Norrington said, a smile of pure glee spreading across his face. "Does this mean…?"

"Ye know what it means," Cecily interrupted irritably. "Just shut up and take yer money."

"So you…"

"Yes, damn it! Drop it!"

"With who?"

"None of yer damn business, that's who," Cecily snapped. "Now get movin', or I'm counting out thirty lashes, ye hear?" With that, she stormed out of Norrington's quarters, furious at her decency.

* * *


	12. Bloody Water

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to anything POTC. I have nothing, so don't even bother trying to sue me. "I'm the stone you can't squeeze blood from, and that's the truth!"

Rating: M

AN: Thanks for the review, Brigitte!

* * *

Chapter 14: Bloody Water

The ships on the horizon were only mere specks, even through Lord Beckett's spyglass, but he knew who they were and why they were sailing towards him. Although the news had reached him only recently, he had known for a few days now that there was a pirate movement in the Caribbean against him, and that a pirate fleet that was at least equal to his convoy was searching for him, and intending to put an end to his reign over the seas.

Lord Beckett was not, however, concerned. With the power that came from having the heart of Davy Jones at his disposal, he was rarely concerned about anything at all. He knew that, even with their armies evenly matched, the Navy would come out on top, because the Navy had the sea on its side. And that was something no pirate could match. Captain O'Connor may have had nerve enough to start this movement against him, which was more than any other pirate had that he could think of, but regardless of her surprising amount of guts, she did not have what it would take to defeat him. He was unstoppable.

So it did not bother him in the least when his first mate reported the approach of eight pirate ships. It still did not bother him when they continued sailing towards him with no thought of avoiding his convoy, or of running up a white flag. And when the first cannon fired, he still remained unconcerned, no matter how worried his soldiers seemed.

He gave the orders to return fire, and all eight of his ships complied, and the war officially began.

* * *

The heat from the cannon fire was almost unbearable. The smell of gunpowder and of blood was in the air, and ships on both sides were quickly becoming so full of holes that they might as well have been made of Swiss cheese. Cecily wiped her sweaty brow with her shirt sleeve, and called out orders to the men operating her cannons. Beside her was the _Pearl_, and on the other side was the _Dauntless_.

They had approached Beckett's convoy without ceremony and had opened fire without warning. There had been a few complaints about this unsportsmanlike start to the battle, but Cecily had ignored them. This was not a game of cricket; it was war.

She had, however, agreed to pick a spot to retreat to. Thanks to her map, she found a nearby island that was fairly unknown and would suit their purposes fine, if retreat should be deemed necessary. Cecily was determined, however, that retreat would never be an option.

Her ships had attempted to encircle Beckett's, but got turned about in some heavy swells that had appeared so suddenly, it was hard to believe they had rose about naturally. Beckett's ships were more successful, forming a semicircle that attempted to swallow Cecily's fleet.

The _Sunrise_ had taken up position before the _Endeavor_, and Cecily was working her hardest to blow the Navy ship out of the ocean. But the _Endeavor_ was heavily armed and matched the _Sunrise_ perhaps more than evenly. Cecily honestly felt that the only reason the two enemy ships had suffered equal amounts of damage was the fact that she had attacked without signaling her intent. Without this tiny bit of surprise on her side, the _Endeavor_ would have been beating the _Sunrise_, not matching it.

The _Dauntless_ and the _Gallant_ had gone from being dead weight to being extremely valuable now that the battle had begun, since they were two of the most powerful ships the pirate fleet had. And of course, the _Pearl_'s prowess had convinced Cecily that the ship was worth the headaches it had brought along.

Cecily gave the order to board the enemy ships, and the rest of her fleet followed suit. Leaving Keith and Sandra to lead the defensive on board the _Sunrise_, Cecily joined the ranks of her crew that swung over to the _Endeavor_.

Landing as unnoticed as she could possibly be, Cecily started in surprise to find Norrington had left his _Dauntless_ under control of Herman, and had also leapt over to the _Endeavor_. She was not surprised, however, to see that the _Maiden_ was leaving its position and swinging closer to the Navy convoy's flag ship in order to allow some of the crew, including its captain, to board. Cecily was grateful to see Matthews, Worchester, Hartford, and Liberte ordering their crew to board the other ships in the convoy, and also to see that many of Norrington's men were boarding the other ships too. Easton's move did not provoke her to relief or gratitude, however; it provoked her to annoyance.

It had started to rain. The swells grew higher, tossing about the pirate ships, and putting distance between them and the Navy convoy. Cecily sensed that this was the beginning of a storm that had not brewed normally, but rather had been created by someone with an unfair advantage.

As the cannon fire continued, and the clashing of swords and the shots of pistols began to sound out from the decks of all sixteen ships, Nathaniel Easton shouted over the sounds of battle and hurricane, "Where the hell is Jones?"

Cecily stared at him through the blinding rain. "Davy Jones?" she asked incredulously. "Ye didn't really expect him, did ye?"

"He said he'd help, didn't he?" Easton returned.

"He's a pirate," Norrington cut in suddenly. "I certainly hope you weren't counting on him to save the day."

"He said _maybe_ he'd help," Cecily added. "The only thing he flat out promised was to conceal our intent and position."

"And when it comes to pirates," the voice of Jack Sparrow suddenly sounded. "Maybe's as good as a no."

All three turned to the new arrival in surprise. "Davy Jones won't be showing his tentacles today, lad," Sparrow continued. "Ye won't see him until he decides to collect on our end of the bargain."

Easton looked outraged. Cecily ignored him. Her attention was focused solely on Captain Sparrow, who was lounging on the side of the ship, still hanging onto the rope he'd swung over on. He was squinting his darkly lined eyes through the sheets of rain blowing sideways at the four captains, and discreetly glancing in all directions around the _Endeavor_. Until he noticed that he had caught Captain O'Connor's attention, and then his glance was suddenly aimed solely at her glance. Cecily slowly raised one eyebrow, and a quick dart of the eyes over to the _Pearl_ confirmed that Will Turner was exchanging blows with several Navy men on board the black sailed ship. She caught Jack following her gaze, and then caught his eye, which looked mildly guilty for a split second. Then the impact from several cannons rocked the ship hard, knocking over the four intruders, and Jack and Cecily both leapt to their feet and ran off, as though the cannon shots had signaled the start of a race. Easton looked to Norrington, who was staring after the two pirate captains with a look that suggested sudden comprehension. "What was all that about?" he asked the commodore.

Norrington looked rather annoyed at the question, but replied steadily, "Someone has to get to the heart. And they've both decided that they want to get there first."

* * *

Cecily charged through the masses of soldiers, sword drawn, prepared to stab whoever got in the way. There was no chance she was going to let Jack Sparrow find the heart of Davy Jones before she did. Trying to ignore the clash of steel against steel, and the explosions from pistols, and the dying screams of men from both Beckett's convoy and her own fleet, she raced towards the stairs that led below deck, where the Captain's quarters would be. As she pushed men out of her way, narrowly escaping the sharp side of a sword more than once, she was stopped in her tracks by the singing of metal flying through the air, and instinctively swung her own sword up towards the sound, where it met with Lord Beckett's sword, producing a loud clash.

The head of the East India Trading Company's calculating brown eyes stared into the hard and angry green ones of the pirate commodore. "My quarters are open only to those with my personal invitation," Lord Beckett announced with cold indifference.

Cecily smirked without amusement. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing about me ocean," she replied.

Beckett allowed himself a smirk as well. "It's my ocean now," he said almost mockingly. "And I don't care for squatters."

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much," Cecily half growled. "Your days of caring or not caring about anything are soon to be brought to an end."

"And I suppose you will be the one ending it all?" Beckett asked, sounding bored.

"Oh, I hope so," Cecily replied, sounding enamored with the thought. "It's my dearest wish." Suddenly, Beckett stumbled forward as the pressure he'd been exerting on his sword abruptly met with no resistance. Cecily swung her sword at Beckett's gut, but he dodged backwards and extended his sword towards her chest, which she parried away.

As the battle continued to rage all around them, the two people responsible for the two warring armies clashed on deck of the _Endeavor_, matching one another sword for sword. Cecily was extremely skilled with a cutlass; she hadn't gotten where she was by not knowing how to handle her weapon. And Beckett, too, was surprisingly talented when it came to fencing, especially since he lived the life of a man who sent other people to do his fighting for him.

The pair advanced and retreated, both dealing and parrying blows, and trying to avoid the blows of the other duels besides them. Beckett very nearly got Cecily's throat, but a quick dodge saved her neck, and provided her with the perfect shot at Beckett's gut. Only by jumping back very awkwardly did he avoid the point of her sword. Cecily used this distraction to smash her cutlass violently against the hilt of Beckett's weapon, very nearly removing several of his fingers, and causing him to drop his sword.

Beckett looked up at his enemy, shocked. But before Cecily could deal what was sure to be a fatal blow, the cannons from the pirate ships rocked the _Endeavor_ savagely, causing several soldiers, including both Cecily and Beckett, to tumble to the deck.

Cecily leapt back to her feet and so did Beckett, drawing his pistol as he did so. Captain O'Connor raised her sword and Beckett took aim, firing a shot that would have flown straight through the pirate woman's heart – if she hadn't been tackled from the side and knocked to the ground.

The pirate commodore was shocked to find Captain Hartford on top of her. He had come out of nowhere – she didn't even remember seeing him board the ship. But what Cecily was really having a hard time getting her mind around was the fact that Tanner hadn't just pushed her out of harm's way, he'd actually taken the bullet for her, and now he was bleeding all over her shirt and the deck.

Cecily didn't think about it. It was as if by pure instinct she had removed her own pistol from the holster, cocked it and taken aim at Lord Beckett. If the ship hadn't been rocked once again by the increasingly heavy cannon fire, knocking Beckett to the side, the bullet would have gone right through the Navy man's head. Without pause, she fired again. If Beckett hadn't instinctively ducked, this bullet too would have found its home in his forehead. As it was, the bullet went sailing past, immediately next to his head, taking his ear with it. Cecily pulled the trigger again, but found that she had used up the remaining bullets earlier, fighting her way across the ship, and her pistol was now useless.

Beckett, clutching where his ear used to be with a look of horror on his face, stared at his now weaponless enemy in shock. Cecily fumbled for Tanner's pistol, but couldn't slide it out of the holster. He was laying on his side, pinning the weapon between him and the deck. As blood streamed out between Beckett's fingers from the gaping hole in the side of his head, he grabbed hold of his pistol and aimed it at Cecily's face, determined to avenge his ear, but never managed to pull the trigger. From behind her sounded another pistol. If Beckett's first mate hadn't gallantly thrown himself at his superior, sending both Navy men tumbling down the stairs that led below deck, the bullet flying through the air would have ended its flight lodged in Beckett's heart.

Cecily stared up at the owner of the pistol in shock. Norrington carefully placed his smoking weapon back in its holster and kneeled beside the pirate woman. "Are you all right?" he asked, staring into her eyes.

Cecily swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and was suddenly herself again. "Of course I'm all right," she replied. "Tanner's the one with the bullet in his side."

As she spoke, she turned back to look at the unconscious man in her lap, pressing her fingers into his neck. There was a pulse. Tanner was still alive.

Norrington continued to stare at Cecily as he reached inside his coat and withdrew his handkerchief. He lifted up Tanner's shirt and pressed the cloth down hard on the bullet wound. Cecily removed her belt and strapped it tightly around Tanner's waist. With the belt applying the pressure Norrington had been supplying, James let go of the handkerchief.

He turned to Cecily, who met his eyes evenly. "Thank ye," she said simply.

Norrington glanced around them at the battle that was still raging. "If we retreat now, we still have a chance," he announced.

Cecily's eye twitched at the very idea. Norrington continued his piece, however. "We won't win this, Cecily," he said. "Our ships are severely damaged, our men are dropping like flies, and this storm, in case you haven't noticed, has benefited Beckett's troops and continually abused ours. If we head for the island you named as our spot of retreat now, Beckett won't follow. He's almost as bad off as we are, and won't risk sailing after us. He'll return to the port he came from, and we can escape."

"Escape to what?" Cecily hissed. Norrington held her gaze without flinching, looking surprisingly determined.

"We escape now, and we regroup," he replied. "We plan a new strategy, so we can attack Beckett a second time, and win. There is no hope left for our side in this battle, Cecily. We have to cut our losses, and try again when we're recovered."

Norrington's talk of trying again brought Cecily back to sense. They had to retreat, or they would die, that was quickly becoming obvious. But retreat would not have to mean giving up, she decided. It _could_ not mean that.

Cecily nodded. "Ye're right," she agreed. "We retreat."

Norrington helped Cecily lift Tanner off the deck of the _Endeavor_, and the two of them carried him across a boarding plank, back to the _Sunrise_, all the while shouting orders to their army to fall back.

* * *

While this drama was unfolding on deck, Captain Jack Sparrow had opted to explore Beckett's office instead of sneaking below to his quarters. He cautiously entered it, glancing around furtively, deaf to the sounds of the battle that raged outside.

Once inside, he began snooping through drawers, shelves, and cabinets, determined to find the heart, but there was no sign of it, or even the chest it came in.

The slow scrape of metal on a leather sheath caused Jack to freeze. "What are you doing in here?" a voice demanded, trying its best to sound hard as flint.

Jack swiveled around to face an angry Will Turner. "Nothing," he replied, smiling even though Will's sword was leveled at his chest. "Just… poking about. Yerself?"

"You were looking for the heart of Davy Jones, weren't you?" Will asked, although he already knew the honest answer.

"Of course I wasn't!" Jack replied.

"I need that heart to save my father, Jack," Will said stonily.

"And I need it to live forever!" Jack replied. "I'd say my issue is slightly more pressing, wouldn't ye?"

"If by pressing, you mean selfish, then yes, I'd have to agree," Will returned.

"Look, Will, I think ye're looking at this all wrong," Jack announced. "I mean, does it really matter which one of us stabs the heart, as long as it gets stabbed? Either way, yer daddy goes free, and this way, _I'm_ the one who gets to sail the ocean forever, and _ye_ get to settle down and marry Elizabeth. Everyone wins. Savvy?"

"I'm not entirely sure about that," Will said. "Who's to say you'll follow through? I've learned my lesson before, Jack: you are not to be trusted."

"Now that's not very nice, mate," Jack replied. Then, with no warning, he pulled his own sword.

Will blocked Jack's swing. "Like I said," he declared. "Not to be trusted."

Jack smirked, and swung again. The two clashed swords all throughout Beckett's office. Will leapt on top of Beckett's desk and scattered his papers about the room. Jack knocked over the desk chair in his haste to escape a blow from Will's sword. A misguided swing caused Will to knock over an entire shelf of expensive knickknacks with his sword, sending them to the floor in pieces.

Jack stumbled out the office door, but not before he had spilled ink all over Beckett's navigational charts. Will followed suit, and the two continued their heated swordfight on deck.

"Well, well, it seems the rats have turned on each other," a haughty voice proclaimed. "Tis not surprising, not surprising at all."

Both Jack and Will ceased to fight and instead directed their attention at the speaker. It was Beckett's right hand man, Mercer, and he was not the only one staring at them. Flanking him were several Navy soldiers. Too late, Will and Jack saw that the pirates were slinking back to their respective ships, and that they had been so preoccupied in their petty disagreement, they had failed to heed the call for retreat.

"The lass who started all this might have gotten away – _this_ time," Mercer continued. "But I dare say ye two will make a nice consolation prize. My lord will be quite pleased to see each o' yer necks in its own noose."

Both Will and Jack were thinking that they really did not care for the sound of that. And Jack saw that his ship, the _Pearl_, was not yet very far from the _Endeavor_, and that the side of the ship was nowhere near the Navy men who were facing him and young William Turner down.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Jack said greasily. "Surely there is no need for nooses between old friends? I for one think…." And then he was over the side of the ship, and swimming for one of the many ropes trailing behind the _Pearl_.

Mercer, his lackeys, and Will all stared after the pirate in disbelief. Then Mercer and the other soldiers turned on Will.

Will laughed nervously, kind of shrugged, and then leapt over the side as well.

* * *


	13. An Old Bleeding Heart

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 15: An Old Bleeding Heart

"What's the diagnosis, doc?"

The unexpected question caused tiny black haired Piper to look up from her patient in surprise. She smiled slightly at the pirate in the doorway. "He'll live," she replied.

Cecily walked into her quarters and sat beside the bed that Piper was hunched over. Piper smiled slightly as she finished her bandaging. "I've told you each time," she said with her Chinese accent. "Sitting here and watching me is not helping anyone. You don't have to be in here."

"Are ye trying to get rid o' me?" Cecily asked with a smirk.

Piper smiled again. "Never, Captain."

Cecily's smirk faded as her eyes fell back on the unconscious man lying on her bed. "When will he wake up?"

Piper shrugged. "Soon, I'm sure."

Cecily made no reply. Piper continued in a reassuring voice, "The bullet did not hit anything vital. I've stopped the bleeding. With a little rest he will be fine. He _will_ wake up, Cecily, and before the night is over, I'm sure. Do not look so worried."

"I'm not worried," she lied.

Piper looked away, deciding a change of subject was in order. "Have we reached the island yet?" she asked.

Cecily nodded. "I just gave the order. We're docking now."

"Good," Piper murmured. "I'll need to replenish my stores. We're nearly out of everything."

"A lot o' people got hurt today," Cecily agreed.

Piper considered taking Cecily's hand, but fortunately thought better of it. "We had no choice but to fight," she said quietly. "And we will have no choice but to fight again."

Cecily nodded slowly. "And all o' us must sacrifice," she added, but in a weird tone, as though she didn't believe her own words.

"How is the patient?"

Cecily and Piper looked up in surprise at the newcomer's voice. Commodore Norrington was standing in the doorway. "I take it everyone's dropped anchor in the bay?" Cecily asked.

"All present and accounted for," Norrington agreed. "I just came to inquire about Captain Hartford."

"Why that's awfully good o' ye, James," Cecily replied, but again she sounded weird, as though she didn't mean it. "Hartford will be fine. Piper says the bullet missed his vitals, and he didn't lose too much blood. He'll make it, thanks to our amazing li'l doctress."

Piper smiled. "Thank you, Cecily."

"Thank _ye_," the pirate returned.

Norrington continued to hover in the doorway. Cecily ignored his presence, concentrating on the wounded man in front of her. Piper decided to take charge of the situation.

"I have this under control," she announced. "You should go and talk matters out with the other captains."

Cecily shook her head, still looking at Tanner. "It can wait," she replied. "Besides, ye've been in here all evening. I can take o'er if ye need."

"I don't need," Piper returned swiftly. "You are in my way, Captain. Go on and do your job, and leave me to do mine."

Cecily started violently, looking as though she was about to beat the insubordination out of her ship's physician. But when she saw the gentle smile playing around Piper's lips, her temper was softened, and she smiled back. "All right, Piper, have it yer way," she said good-humoredly. "I'll be gettin' out o' yer hair."

"Thank you, Captain," Piper replied. Cecily rose and followed Norrington out of the room.

The two of them stopped at the side of the ship. Cecily leaned on the rail, looking determinedly out at the sea they'd just sailed, and Norrington stood almost at attention beside her, his hands barely resting on the rail, staring down into the water just below them.

"So Captain Hartford is going to be all right?" Norrington asked.

"Aye, 'ccording to Piper," Cecily returned. "He was lucky." Then she laughed slightly. "Or maybe if he was lucky he'd a never met me, eh?"

"Don't do that to yourself," James said softly.

Cecily rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, come on James, I wasn't serious."

"Yes you were," James insisted, still staring at the waves. "You can say it like it's a joke, Cecily, but I know better. I know you mean it."

"Oh, ye do, do ye?" Cecily asked, all the humor leaving her face.

"Yes," James replied steadily.

"Why are ye…." Here, Cecily trailed off, as if unsure what she was going to ask him. Then her resolve returned, and she continued with, "Why are ye on me ship, James? Why are ye o'er here talkin' to me about this anyway? Why do ye care?"

"I thought you might need a friend."

"I have friends," Cecily retorted.

"Not like me," James replied. He paused, but then continued with, "One day, you know, you just wake up and it hits you, that you've done something horrible, something selfish, and that the cost has been the suffering of innocent people. And then you ask yourself, what have you done? What is wrong with you? And not many people can understand that feeling like I can," James smiled slightly. "At least you only _think_ you've done something horrible. I actually did."

Cecily laughed out loud. "I didn't do something horrible?" she asked.

"No," James replied. "You did something good, something that was to the benefit of everyone on this ocean. You were trying to stop something horrible, not do something horrible."

Cecily laughed again. "Don't try to talk good intentions to a pirate, James," she said bitterly. "If ye think I did this out o' something good and noble inside o' me, trust me, ye're hallucinating. I didn't do this to stop something horrible; I didn't do this to save innocent lives, or even guilty lives. I did it to save me own neck. World comes crashing down around ye, and ye're bound to do some pretty crazy things to put it back together."

"Like what I did," James interrupted.

"Exactly," Cecily returned mercilessly. "And that's what I did, James. I knew time was comin' close that I'd be hanging from a noose. And I wasn't ready to die. So I went out there to stop Beckett, not because what he was doing was wrong, but because what he was doing was going to end up costing me m' life. I was every bit as selfish as ye were. In fact, possibly the only one o' us that wasn't selfish was Tanner," Cecily concluded, jerking her thumb back in the general direction of her quarters. "And that, quite frankly, surprises the shite out o' me. Tanner, who for as long as I'd known him didn't give a damn about anything or anyone except for himself. I'd never have expected it from him. Easton, sure as hell. Worchester and Liberte, maybe – not very likely, but possible. Hell, even Matthews might have done it. A guy like Matthews, well, he'd probably take a bullet for anybody. But not Tanner. Never. I just can't believe it. Tanner, Mr. Apathy, goes and takes a bullet for _me_. For me! And I sure as hell ain't worth that. I might not be a total waste o' life, but I sure as hell ain't worth a bullet in the gut."

"Well," James replied carefully. "You are, in a manner of speaking, our superior. Everyone in this fleet takes their orders from you. You're our commodore, Cecily, you're the only reason we're all here, doing what we've come to do. Sometimes the respect you have for a higher officer, the loyalty you have for that person, it can…."

"Oh, shite, don't start with that," Cecily interrupted him. "Aye, I'm the only reason ye're all here, and that should have been as good a reason as any to let me have the bullet in me heart."

Norrington fell silent. Cecily too, was quiet. They stared at the waves again, and then Cecily continued, as though she couldn't stop herself. "It's not just Tanner. A lot of people were compromised today, James."

Norrington continued his silence, knowing that his presence was encouragement enough. Cecily stared hard at the waves and said, again quite suddenly, "Sandra and Keith are dead."

James looked up, startled. "Your first mate?" he asked. Cecily nodded. "And the man that she was with, he too…." Again, Cecily nodded.

"Was pretty romantic, according to Marjorie," she said. "She took a bullet in the head, to save his. And then Keith went after the gunmen, to take his revenge, and was cut down."

James was still quiet, stealing glances at her every once and awhile. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Cecily seemed the same as always, except quieter, and slightly more grim than usual.

"Not just them either, ye know," she continued. "Whole lot o' me crew is severely injured. And Ronan, well, he lost Tom. I don't know what he's going to do without Tom. They were real close, ye know? Like brothers. And o' course, plenty o' injured on his ship as well. And same for Skip, and Nate, and the _Pearl_… hell, I'm sure ye and Larry lost plenty o' people too."

James nodded. "Yes, we did," he agreed.

"Everyone felt it today," she said. "We all lost a lot."

Norrington shook his head. "Not really," he admitted. "Everyone I cared about survived today, and those I care about are few. I never did make a habit of getting close to my men."

"Good," Cecily said, so strongly that Norrington was surprised. "That was real wise o' ye."

"I'm not so sure it was," he replied.

"Take it from someone who did what ye didn't," Cecily returned. "It was real wise o' ye."

"Well, it might have been wise, but I don't think it makes me a very good person," Norrrington pointed out.

"We're all bad people here," Cecily responded.

They fell silent again. This time, it was Norrington who restarted the conversation. "You were real close to them, then?" he asked. "Keith and Sandra?"

Cecily shrugged. "Well, she _was_ me first mate," was all she said. "And o' course, she was real close to him, so by default…."

Norrington nodded. "And Hartford? You were real close to him as well?"

"No," Cecily said, shaking her head vehemently. "No, not at all."

"Never?"

Cecily shook her head again. Norrington said skeptically, "But he took a bullet for you."

Cecily stiffened and stared out at the sea. "Well, maybe we were close _once_," she amended. "But not now."

"But you were going to avenge him."

"How do ye mean?"

"I mean, as soon as he hit the deck, you took out your pistol and started firing at Beckett," Norrington pointed out.

Cecily shrugged. "Well, I was planning on killin' the bastard anyway," she replied. "I wouldn't read too much into it."

"Maybe so," Norrington pressed on. "But you were different about the whole thing after Hartford was shot."

"How so?" Cecily demanded.

"Your face just… changed." Then Norrington smirked. "You didn't even realize you were doing it."

Cecily glared at him. "That was not funny."

"You were together once?"

Cecily nodded. "Aye. A long time ago."

"But he was the one in the Antilles? The night before we left for battle? The one that you…?"

Cecily gave a curt nod. "So then, you two are close." Norrington concluded.

Cecily shook her head. "I'll be damned if I ever know."

They fell silent again. "We should call together the other captains," Cecily announced. "We need to discuss where we go from here."

"I'm sure it can wait at least for the night," Norrington argued.

Cecily shook her head in the negative. "No it cannot."

"But Hartford isn't even conscious yet!"

"We'll have to deal with his first mate then," Cecily replied determinedly. "The sooner we figure out our next step, the better off we'll be."

"But Cecily…."

"Do ye realize what we've done?" Cecily exclaimed. "We've officially declared war. We need to move quickly, be'ore Beckett does!"

Norrington stared at her a moment longer, and then nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "Let's go."

* * *


	14. A New Plan

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks for the review, QOTRS! Glad to hear from you again.

* * *

Chapter 16: A New Plan

Seven pirate captains and one first mate sat around one of the large tables in the _Bloody Sunrise_'s galley, waiting expectantly for their commodore to begin the meeting. Most of them were holding up quite well, considering the fight they'd just been on the losing side of. There were a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too major – nothing, at least, that kept them from attending the meeting. The only captain in the fleet too injured to be a part of the congregation was Tanner Hartford, but his first mate Geoffrey was a good enough stand in. Although, Cecily had to admit she didn't particularly care for the glare Hartford's first mate was giving her.

Ronan was sitting at the table, hunched over with his arms crossed, staring into the scars on the wooden surface. He looked at no one, refused to speak, and quite frankly, adopted a manner that greatly spooked Cecily.

Everyone else looked rather grim, but not nearly as frighteningly depressed as poor Ronan. For once, all the captains maintained a surprising silence that impressed their commodore more than she'd ever been in her life.

"Today," Cecily announced. "Was not a good day."

No one bothered to comment. The statement was an obvious one. All of the assembled pirates had lost people they'd known and cared for, and many other people were severely injured. The day had been a bad one indeed.

"I would like to start this meeting," Cecily continued. "With an apology. The great loss we encountered today could have been avoided with a bit more planning. I accept full responsibility for the dismal outcome of the day's battle, and promise that the next one will be much better planned and much more successful… assuming, o' course, that all o' ye still want to be a part of what we started. If ye should decide otherwise, well, I'll still call ye a yellowbellied stinkin' coward, but I suppose I'll have to understand yer decision."

When no one appeared to have anything to say in response, Cecily continued. "It has become clear to me that unless we manage to recover the heart of Davy Jones extremely early on in the battle, we cannot hope to succeed. Exactly how we're going to do that, I have no bloody idea, but it's a start. If anyone has any suggestions, please, offer them up."

Her assembled committee continued to stare at her blankly. Cecily carried on. "My first action," she announced. "Will be to enlarge our fleet. It's time to call in the reinforcements, lads. Does anyone know of any pirate captain who would be willing to take on this venture?"

When she yet again received silence as her answer, Cecily got annoyed. "This is the part where one o' ye has to speak up," she said.

Geoffrey, still glaring at her, opened his mouth to say his piece. "Do ye really think anyone here is willing to continue with this nonsense?" he spat. "Today was much more than a bad day, O'Connor. Yer vigilante shit got a lot of good men killed today, as well as many more men injured, including me captain. I, for one, will be packing up my crew and taking back Captain Hartford as soon as possible, and then we shall wash our hands of ye and yer insanity."

Cecily rounded on Hartford's stand in. "Oh?" she asked. "Is that what ye intend to do? Yer captain is far from dead, boy, and when he gets back on his feet, which may very well be as soon as tomorrow, I daresay he'll be more inclined to take a different approach."

Geoffrey snorted. "Me captain is lying wounded in the next room as a consequence of yer actions, and ye dare to suggest he'd still support ye? Mark me words, we'll be gone by sunrise."

"Ye are not the captain o' the _Savage Beauty_, lad, and I've only allowed ye to sit in on this meeting out o' the goodness o' me heart," Cecily snarled. "I don't really care what ye think, or what ye have to say, because in the end, it's really not yer opinion that counts, is it? It's the opinion of Captain Hartford that matters, and I can promise ye, the two o' ye are not o' like minds."

"Fine!" Geoffrey exploded. "Ye don't have to listen to me. I'll wager the other men present will do enough talking in my stead. Ye can't honestly believe they'll take yer side on this, O'Connor."

"I will," Norrington spoke up decisively, rising up and taking his spot beside the pirate woman. "We all agreed once before that Beckett must be stopped, and now we must finish what we started."

Cecily didn't look at Norrington, but the slight relaxation he saw in her facial muscles told him that she was grateful for his support.

Geoffrey, however, was not impressed. "Ye would agree with her," he snorted. "This whole bloody mess is yer fault anyway."

"Watch yer tongue, boy," Cecily snarled at him.

"He's not the only one on her side," Matthews announced. "I will gladly support Commodore O'Connor in this, and will not rest until we have finished this fight once and for all."

An eye roll was the surly first mate's response. "What a surprise," he retorted sourly. "The Navy men stick together. Who cares what ye two think? Ye were never on our side, and ye're not now either, no matter what ye claim."

"Do ye think I do not realize that this has been difficult?" Cecily exclaimed, violently stalking around the table to Geoffrey's seat. She leaned over and got into the man's face. "I know as well as any o' ye the sacrifices we have made today for the sake of our kind. I was there when Tanner took that bullet, and if ye think I don't suffer for it, ye mistake me. Ye're not the only one on this ship that worries for yer captain. Ye're certainly not the only one that mourns. I have lost the two people I held dearest in this world today, and so have many others. Do not act self-righteous with me, darling, ye don't have a leg to stand on."

She stood up and began to circle the table. "Today was destructive for us, but that is no reason to turn back now. After we've lost so much, it just doesn't make sense to turn and run. If we have nothing left to loose, then why are we afraid to risk it? Important people lost their lives today, but tears and running will do them no justice. Revenge must be our motivator now." Here she stopped behind Ronan, who was still staring straight ahead, with tears in his maniacal eyes. One solitary teardrop tumbled down his cheek. Her hand rested on his large shoulder, and she said softly, "They would not forgive us if we turned back now. We must continue to fight, if not for the reasons we started, than for the people we lost today. Those we cared for must be avenged."

Slowly, she removed her hand from Ronan's shoulder, and continued her walk around the table. Ronan's eyes followed her, and he stood up. "Yes, they must be," he announced.

Cecily turned back to look at him. Ronan continued, addressing all of them. "We must fight again," he agreed. "If not for the sea, then for the people that died on the sea today. The _Sea Bird_ will stand behind ye, Captain O'Connor. We will fight."

Cecily smiled softly at Ronan and nodded her head. "That's what I'm talkin' about, Captain Liberte. Glad to have ye aboard."

"I sure as hell ain't turning back now either," Skip announced. Cecily turned to look at him. He only shrugged. "Well, ye know me, I ain't never shied away from a fight before, and I sure as hell ain't going to start now. I'm in, and I'll be in 'til it's over."

Cecily gave Skip a smile.

"Me too," Easton spoke up. "I won't abandon ye, Commodore."

Cecily nodded at him.

"I stand by what I said," Geoffrey said, resolved on his course of action.

Cecily stared daggers at him. "I'll let yer captain have the final word," she replied. Then she rounded on Sparrow and Barboussa. "What about ye two?" she asked. "Ye still with us?"

The two captains exchanged looks, and then gave short nods. "We've got our own bone to pick with Mr. Beckett," Barboussa announced.

Satisfied, Cecily smiled at her loyal troops, and then continued strategizing. "Fine, then about those reinforcements. Anybody here know anyone willing to help?"

"I do," Ronan announced resolutely. Ever since the mention of revenge, he had become an active participant in the meeting, suddenly determined to destroy Beckett and his army. "Me old friend, Jim Sauder. He'll do right by us and the sea, I stake me life on it."

"Jim?" Cecily asked, wincing a little. "Uh…. Are ye sure ye don't know anyone else?"

Ronan met her eyes. "I am afraid he is the only one I can guarantee."

Cecil sighed, resigned to her fate. "All right, Jim Sauder it is." As if she didn't have enough exes in her fleet already.

"I've got a friend too," Skip put in. "Constantine Vontoya. I'm sure I can convince him to join up."

"Are ye bloody kiddin' me?" Cecily snapped. "Vontoya? That worthless, good-fer-nothin' doped-up waste o' skin? I beleive I've told ye be'ore that that man needs to maintain a hundred foot distance from me at all times. And ye actually think I'd invite that sack o' shite into me fleet? Damn it, Worchester, this is important!"

Skip looked mildly amused as he stared at her evenly. "Beggers can't be choosers, O'Connor."

Cecily glowered at him. Finally, she spoke. "Fine," she said tightly. "Vontoya it is. But ye will swear to me on yer life that ye'll keep him sober - and far away from me."

"Agreed," Skip smirked.

"Good," she nodded. "All right, that's two so far. Anyone else?"

The remaining men all shook their heads in the negative, except for Jack Sparrow, who refused eye contact with Captain O'Connor, and started fidgeting a lot.

"Captain Sparrow?" Cecily asked. "Do ye have something ye'd like to share with the class?"

"No," Jack replied.

Barboussa gave his co-captain a dangerous look. "Oh, now, Jack, I think ye do," he replied.

"No, I don't." Jack repeated.

"Well, which is it?" Cecily demanded. "Do ye two have a pirate ship to contribute or not?"

Jack continued to stare at the table. Barboussa continued to glare at Jack. Cecily began to get exasperated. Finally, Jack said, "Aye, I may know of someone who will be willing to help."

"Perfect. That makes three," Cecily announced. She didn't look as happy as she sounded. "No one else?"

It appeared not. Cecily sighed inwardly and resigned herself to only three extra ships. "All right, then. In the morning, ye three will set off in search of yer connections, and once ye convince them to join up, ye will meet us back here. In the meantime, the remaining ships will keep a close watch on Beckett's convoy, and ensure he does not have opportunity to gather reinforcements of his own."

"How do ye propose we do that?" Geoffrey asked sourly.

Cecily grinned, not the least bit put out. "Why, sabotage, o' course."

* * *


	15. You've Let Me Down Before

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 17: You've Let Me Down Before 

By the time the meeting ended that night, it was very late. Cecily snuck down into her quarters to find Piper fast asleep in the chair beside the bed.

Cecily stole over to the doctress and gently shook her. Piper blinked slowly awake. "Go on down to yer bed, darling," Cecily whispered.

Piper nodded her thanks, too sleepy for conversation, and stumbled out of the room.

Cecily took Piper's place in the chair, staring down at Tanner's sleeping face. He wasn't wearing his usual irritating smirk, and he didn't snore. She rather preferred him asleep than when he was awake, she decided.

Just as she formed the thought, Tanner stirred. Cecily, although relieved that he seemed to be coming around, suddenly felt very uncomfortable sitting where she was. Maybe, she thought, she should just sneak out so he wouldn't see her. But before she could fully act on the idea, Tanner's eyes opened, and he blinked up at her, awake.

Cecily smiled awkwardly at him, half out of her seat. "Hello, darling," she whispered, slowly sitting back down. "Thought yer lazy arse was never goin' to wake up."

Tanner smirked, and Cecily immediately felt irritated – but she supposed it was in a good way. "Ye really shouldn't talk like that to the man who saved yer life."

"Yeah, that was real heroic, that was," Cecily returned. "But not if ye're goin' to pat yerself on the back for it."

They fell silent, suddenly embarrassed in the other's presence. "How did it end?" Tanner asked.

"We retreated," Cecily replied glumly.

Tanner nodded. "Surprised ye had that kind of sense. Figured ye for a fight to the death type."

"I am," Cecily said. "Norrington talked me into the retreat."

Tanner laughed. "Ye're taking advice from the Navy man, now? Hit yer head in battle or something?"

"Shut up," Cecily rolled her eyes at him. "Could say the same to ye."

"How's that?"

Cecily looked away, biting her lip. She was hesitating. She couldn't believe she was hesitating. Only Tanner could make her hesitate. "Why did ye do that?" she asked him, avoiding eye contact.

Tanner looked away also. "Do what?" he asked.

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Don't play that game with me. Ye know what. Why the hell did ye take the bullet for me?"

Tanner shrugged, determinedly studying the blanket. "Don't know. Just did."

"That is not an answer," Cecily replied.

Tanner sighed. "I don't have an answer," he said.

Cecily looked annoyed, but she didn't know quite what to say. "It just doesn't make sense," she said after awhile. "I can't understand why ye did that for me."

"What makes ye think it was for ye?" Tanner asked rather rudely.

Cecily didn't look the least bit offended. "That's what Norrington said," she replied. "He said ye did it for the fleet."

Tanner sighed and rolled his eyes. "What the hell are ye listening to him for? I'm unconscious for a few hours, and suddenly Norrington's yer bloody advisor? Like I give a damn about the fleet anyway."

"Precisely," Cecily turned on him. "Ye don't give a damn about anything but yerself! So why did ye put me first?"

Tanner sighed again. "I'm too tired for this."

Cecily fumed, but fell quiet. "What's next?" Tanner asked.

"I sent some o' the ships out to get reinforcements," Cecily replied. "The rest o' us are going to try to keep all Beckett's ships off the sea until they get back. Make sure he doesn't get a chance to do the same as us."

Tanner nodded.

"Are ye goin' to be sticking around for the next battle?" she asked him.

Tanner frowned, looking a little confused. "Well, I'm not exactly planning on dying, so…."

"Are ye goin' to leave us?" Cecily interrupted. "Yer first mate seems to think ye're packing up and heading out as soon as ye're out o' bed."

Tanner raised an eyebrow. "Geoffrey said that?"

"Aye," Cecily replied. "He wasn't very nice to me either. Seems to think I almost got ye killed."

"Well, ye did," Tanner smirked.

Cecily didn't crack a smile. "Me thoughts exactly."

Tanner's smirk vanished. "I almost got myself killed. Ye didn't have a damn thing to do with it."

"Dragged ye along, didn't I?"

"I didn't have to come."

"Yeah, right, like I'd have let ye stay behind."

Tanner laughed. "If I really hadn't wanted to come, I wouldn't have. That I can promise ye."

"My bloody neck ye tried to save today, though. Weren't fer me, ye wouldn't have got yerself shot."

"Again, my choice. Ye didn't make me do anything. Stop blaming yerself."

"That sounds like what Norrington said."

"If ye don't stop telling me Norrington's opinion every time we discuss something, I'll bloody shoot ye."

Cecily laughed.

"I'm staying," Tanner said firmly. "Think I owe Lord Beckett a bullet in the gut, wouldn't ye say?"

"Aye, I think ye may be right," Cecily replied.

"When am I allowed up?"

"Ye'll have to ask Piper. She'll be in to check on ye tomorrow, I'm sure."

"How'd ye get me off the _Endeavor_ and back on yer ship?" Tanner asked suddenly.

Cecily shrugged. "Norrington helped."

Tanner groaned. "Bloody hell, I really didn't want that to be the answer."

Cecily laughed again. "What do ye have against James?" she asked.

"Oh, so it's James now, is it?"

"Always has been," Cecily replied. "He has his faults, I'll admit, but he always comes through in the end."

Tanner didn't bother to reply to that. "How'd ye get rid o' Beckett?"

"Again, that was Norrington."

"Oh, really?" Tanner asked. "What's goin' on that ye had to have _two_ men rescue ye today? Doesn't sound like ye."

"For yer information," Cecily replied. "I only had two bullets. The ship got hit by cannons and messed up me first shot, and the second bullet took off Beckett's ear. I tried to get _yer_ gun out, but ye were stupid enough to fall on it."

"Beckett _is_ still alive then?" Tanner asked.

"Unfortunately."

They fell silent again. "I still want to know," Cecily announced suddenly.

"Still want to know what?"

"Why you did it."

Tanner sighed. "Cecily, don't be stupid. Ye know why I did it."

Cecily was effectively silenced.

"Tanner, I need a favor," she asked suddenly, after a long period of quiet had passed.

"Don't ye think I've done ye enough favors for one day?" Tanner smirked.

"Sparrow, Barboussa, Liberte, and Worchester are leaving tomorrow. So am I. I'm leaving Marjorie in charge of the ship."

"Marjorie?" Tanner asked. "What about Sandra?"

"Marjorie's me first mate now," Cecily replied simply.

Sudden understanding dawned on Tanner. "Sandra's dead, isn't she?" he asked.

Cecily gave a curt nod. "Her and Keith both," she said. "Anyway, me ship will be with Marjorie, and I've asked Matthews to supervise the remaining fleet."

"Way to stab me in the back, Cecily," Tanner replied, but he didn't sound serious.

Cecily rolled her eyes. "I might have put ye in charge, but in case ye haven't noticed, yer a teensy bit wounded there, darling."

"Well, go on then, what's the favor?"

Cecily sighed. "Look, Easton worries me a little. I think he's jealous of Matthews. He didn't say anything about it, but I think maybe he expected me to put _him_ in charge, not Matthews. And yer first mate didn't exactly put me at ease when it came to his loyalties."

"Geoffrey's loyalties are to me," Tanner replied. "He'll go the way I go."

"Good," Cecily said. "Once ye're better, I want ye to help Matthews. I want ye to make sure Easton doesn't pull anything on him. I want ye to keep yer first mate in line. Just, ye know…."

"Remain loyal to ye?" Tanner supplied. "Are ye serious? The favor ye want is for me to stay loyal to ye? To help Matthews keep order, so that the rest of the fleet stays loyal to ye too?"

"Well… aye, I guess so," Cecily replied.

"Why aren't ye askin' _James_, eh?"

"Norrington is leavin' with me," Cecily murmured, looking away from him. "We're goin' to the island Beckett's moored at to keep him from sending for more ships."

Tanner absorbed the information, managing not to show a reaction. "Do ye honestly think I'd start a revolt or something?" he asked after a moment, sounding upset with her.

"O' course not!"

"Then why are ye asking me?"

Cecily stared hard at him. "Tanner, I need yer word."

Tanner stared hard back at her. "I saved yer life, and ye still don't think ye can trust me?"

Cecily continued to stare at him, her muscles twitching slightly. She seemed to be fighting some impulse. Then she grabbed him around the face and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Tanner kissed her back. The kiss lasted quite some time, and Tanner pulled her closer to him. As soon as Cecily felt herself about to end up on the bed, she pulled away and stood up.

"I want to trust ye," she replied. "But I don't trust anyone very easily. And ye've let me down be'ore."

Tanner stared at her. "I give ye my word," he replied simply.

Cecily nodded. "Thank ye," she whispered. Then she walked out of the room.

* * *


	16. The Univited Guest

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 18: The Uninvited Guest

The next morning was bright and humid. It was a beautiful day, but the fleet of Cecily O'Connor was far too exhausted to notice or care. Almost none of them had slept the night before, trying to repair the damage done to the ships that were to be used that day the best they could. Cecily and Norrington stood on board the _Dauntless_, overseeing some last minute work before they set off for Dominica, the little island that Cecily's map had shown as Beckett's spot of retreat. Nearby, the _Pearl_, the _Plaything,_ and the _Sea Bird_ were finishing repairs and getting ready to sail. The night before, Cecily had located their connections on her map, and given each captain their headings.

As Cecily surveyed the other ships moored off the coast of the island, she noticed a large ship sailing into port alongside the _Pearl_. The strange, fanlike sails were unmistakable.

Her heart skipped a beat. If he was coming to collect now, then the _Pearl_ would most likely not be able to sail out – or even remain in her fleet. She couldn't lose that ship, not now, when every last resource had become so important.

"James," she said.

Norrington joined her at the side. "What is going on?" he asked, spotting the ship as well.

"We have a problem," Cecily announced. "We better get to the _Pearl_."

* * *

Sao Feng stormed onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_, accompanied by his fierce looking crew. The members of the _Pearl_'s crew that were once his men also turned on the pirate ship that belonged to O'Connor's fleet. The few remaining members of team Sparrow-Barboussa were quickly subdued by the pirate lord's crew.

"Will Turner!" the pirate man boomed.

Two of Sao Feng's men pushed the young blacksmith turned pirate forward. Will stumbled, but caught his balance. The infamous pirate lord of Singapore stared down at the man who'd dared to break their bargain. "Will Turner," Sao Feng said again. "I went to the port you named, but you did not come. Care to tell me why?" The last few words came out in an angry hiss, and Sao Feng grabbed Will by the throat and lifted him off the ground, pinning him to the mast.

"I, uh, got sidetracked," Will rasped out, with great difficulty due to his restricted throat.

"You promised me something," Sao Feng hissed. "Something of great value that I dearly want paid to me. Especially seeing as the ship I so graciously loaned you seems to have… disappeared."

Will winced as the hand on his throat squeezed tighter. "Let him go!" Elizabeth shouted, throwing herself at Sao Feng. The pirate lord shoved her to the deck, and his crew laughed as she fell.

"Stay back, Miss Swann," Sao Feng mocked her. "We wouldn't want you to hurt your pretty self."

Elizabeth, furious, leapt off the deck and drew her pistol, aiming it at the pirate lord's head. "I won't say it again," she snarled. "Let him go."

Sao Feng did not let Will go, but he turned his gaze to the pretty young woman who stood beside him, threatening his life with a pistol. "You dare to draw a gun on _me_, Miss Swann?" he asked. "I did not take you for such a fool. I have you outnumbered immensely. I also have no qualms in allowing my men to kill every last one of you. You would need an army, before you could draw a gun on _me_."

"Lucky she's got one."

Sao Feng turned his head in the direction of the newcomer's voice. To his surprise, it was yet another woman. She was short, blond, and had an unmistakably Irish accent. And she too, pointed her pistol at him.

"Who are you?" Sao Feng demanded.

"Commodore Cecily O'Connor," Cecily replied evenly, still holding the gun on the pirate lord. "As I was saying, Miss Swann does in fact have an army to back her up. The _Pearl_ is a member o' _my_ fleet, and therefore under _my _protection. Now, I must ask ye to let poor Mr. Turner go be'ore he is asphyxiated. If ye don't, I'll be forced to attack yer one ship with me seven."

Sao Feng took a look around him. Cecily was accompanied by Norrington and most of the Navy man's crew. All around the _Pearl_ were several other ships, and each one was pointed towards his ship, with someone at each helm, looking ready to take the orders of the pirate wench.

Sao Feng dropped Will, who hit the deck with a thud. Elizabeth rushed to the side of her fiancé, as he rubbed his throat, gasping for air.

"If you are in fact this young man's protector," Sao Feng announced. "Then you are willing to take responsibility for his debt to me? I assure you, he does have one, and it is a large order to fill."

"I accept responsibility fer no one," Cecily snarled. "But I will accept responsibility fer shooting ye off this ship. I told ye, ye're trespassing on me property."

Sao Feng inclined his head to the pirate woman. "Mr. Turner has acquired this ship only through my generosity," he said.

"I thought this was _their_ ship," Cecily returned, inclining her head towards Sparrow and Barboussa.

"It is," Barboussa returned angrily.

"Actually," Jack could not help but add. "It's _my_ ship."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Well, ye heard them, Sao Feng," she said. "This ain't Turner's ship."

"Maybe not," Sao Feng replied. "But in order for those two to acquire this ship, they needed what I gave Mr. Turner. If I do not receive payment, I'm afraid I will have to take this property for my own."

Cecily stared hard at Sao Feng. "I want ye in Sparrow – or Barboussa – or whoever's office, now."

"I am not a member of your fleet, Commodore O'Connor, and therefore not accustomed to taking your orders," Sao Feng hissed, his eyes getting dangerous.

"No, but ye are at the end o' me pistol, aren't ye?" Cecily snarled back.

Sao Feng glared at the pirate woman.

"I want ye to join me in the office," Cecily continued. "Along with James, Sparrow, Barboussa, and Mr. Turner. Perhaps we can work out some sort of an arrangement. I'm a fair woman, and I'd hate to see ye robbed. Come on, all o' ye."

She inclined her head towards the door. When no one made a move to obey, she stamped her foot on the deck. "Now, or I start shooting!"

Norrington and Will led the way into the office, Barboussa and Sparrow following. Cecily and Sao Feng stared at one another for a long time before Sao Feng finally went into the office first. Cecily followed him, and slammed the door behind her.

"I want what I was promised," Sao Feng announced dangerously.

"I want, I want, I want," Cecily mocked him. "Don't be such a child. Turner," she snapped, rounding on the young man.

"Yes, Commodore O'Connor," Will replied evenly.

"Now would be the time to tell me what ye promised our guest," she said.

"I was promised," Sao Feng thundered. "Calypso."

Cecily froze, and then rounded on him. "Calypso?" she asked incredulously. "Ye mean, like the sea goddess?"

"I was promised Calypso," Sao Feng pushed on. "And I want her."

A quick look around the room convinced Cecily of her options. Sao Feng looked deadly serious. James looked as confused as she felt. Will Turner was hanging his head, looking slightly ashamed, but mostly put out that Sao Feng had caught up to him. Barboussa and Sparrow, on the other hand, seemed rather nervous, as though maybe they knew what Sao Feng was talking about.

An idea occurred to her. "And so, ye shall have her," Cecily agreed.

Every single person in the room looked at her like she was crazy. Even Sao Feng looked as though he couldn't believe her words.

"Mr. Turner seems to have misled ye, Sao Feng, but I will account for his promise." Cecily announced. "Perhaps, Mr. Turner meant that he would lead ye to someone who _knew_ where Calypso _was_. Is that what ye meant, William?"

Will stared at Cecily for a moment in dumbfounded silence – but only for a moment. "Yes," he agreed hastily. "That is exactly what I meant."

"Well, there now, ye see?" Cecily smiled brightly. "Just a li'l misunderstanding, s'all. And ye were goin' to strangle the poor lad to death."

Sao Feng looked unconvinced. "I was promised Calypso," he repeated, sounding angry.

Even Barboussa winced at the man's tone, but Cecily let it roll off her shoulders. "I know, I know, it's all very confusing," she said in a soothing tone of voice. "But therein lies the root o' the problem. Ye were promised only the name o' the person who could lead ye to Calypso. Not Calypso herself."

Sao Feng glowered at her. "Do you take me for a fool?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"No, no, o' course not," Cecily replied smoothly. "Mr. Turner on the other hand…. Well, he never was very good with words. Bound to confuse anyone, tryin' to understand what he means. And the language barrier don't help."

The expression on Sao Feng's face implied an inner explosion at this last sentence. Even Cecily showed a slight sign of nervousness at this, but she kept on in a pacifying tone of voice. "Now, William, be a good lad, and tell our guest here the name ye promised him."

Sao Feng turned on Will, looking frightening enough to scare fish out of the water. Will swallowed hard, and glanced at Cecily. She nodded encouragingly at him from behind Sao Feng's back. Will frowned. Cecily opened her eyes wide and nodded more, as though trying to tell him something. Will continued to frown, but stopped staring at the pirate woman and turned to look at the angry pirate lord. "Uh…. the person who knows where what you seek lies, is, uh…." he glanced at Cecily again, who nodded again. "Is, uh…. uh…. Commodore O'Connor!"

Sao Feng turned on Cecily once again. "You?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

Cecily nodded. "Aye, me." Sao Feng turned from her, and she glared at Will, as though to ask what the hell was the matter with him. Will only shrugged in a manner that clearly blamed her for being unclear.

Sao Feng marched up to the pirate woman and lowered his face into hers. "Well, Commodore O'Connor," he hissed. "Then I suppose I ought to have been strangling you."

Norrington's hand found the hilt of his sword. Cecily smiled at the man threatening her. "No need fer that, darling," she replied. "I'm a dealin' sort o' woman, and I'm more than willin' to make a deal with ye. However, deals go two ways, as ye've learned from yer experience with Mr. Turner, and if I'm goin' to give up the location o' a goddess, well, surely ye know there has to be something in it fer me."

Sao Feng continued to glower at her, but made no move to either attack or object. He was not in Singapore any longer. He was in the waters of another pirate commodore, and he was outnumbered eight to one, if you counted the _Pearl_. Sao Feng was no fool. He knew who held the cards here. It was time to listen.

He took a step back, and studied her face. "I am listening," he said.

"The reason ye find me with a fleet on this fine morning," she announced. "Is that I am planning a… business venture."

"What sort of business venture?" Sao Feng asked, sounding as though he didn't entirely believe her.

"Well… we've been having some large-scale problems with the Navy in these parts lately – probably the same holds true in most parts, as a matter o' fact."

Sao Feng nodded, to show that he was listening.

"Well, my fleet proposes to put an end to these… problems," Cecily continued. "Through… assassination."

"Assassination?" Sao Feng inquired with an exaggerated show of curiosity. "Please, explain to me further."

"Well, I have come to believe, due to reports from reputable sources, that the root o' these problems is in fact the newly appointed head o' the East India Trading Company, or as he is more familiarly known, Lord Cutler Beckett," Cecily explained. "And it is my belief that his death would solve these… problems."

Sao Feng nodded slowly. "And how would you go about performing this assassination?"

"Well, that is where the fleet comes in," she continued. "I know exactly where Beckett is and how many forces he has. I have a plan to keep him where he is until I have more forces o' me own. And once the rest o' me fleet is assembled, we will launch an attack on the convoy Lord Beckett sails in, and we will destroy them all."

Sao Feng stared at her, a rather bitter smile in his eye. "You wish to recruit me into your fleet, Commodore O'Connor?" he smirked.

"Well, aye, actually, that is exactly what I mean to propose," Cecily said. "Ye would join the ranks, ye would sail with me and the _Dauntless_ to where Beckett is moored, ye would help sabotage his efforts to leave port, and ye would join in battle once me reinforcements arrive. And that is all I would ask o' ye. All ye would have to do," (here she grinned slyly) "In order to find out exactly where yer Calypso hides."

Sao Feng leaned back into her face. "And what," he inquired. "Would happen if I were to die on such a venture?"

"Am I yer lawyer, darling?" Cecily returned. "Make yer own bloody will."

"Am I to risk death, and therefore the possibility that your end of the bargain will never be upheld?" he demanded. "I do not know that I like such an agreement."

"Ye won't get another offer," Cecily returned point blank. "If ye don't want to take this one, ye might as well pack up and head back to Singapore."

Sao Feng stared at her a long time. Finally, he held out his hand. "Agreed," he announced.

"Agreed," Cecily returned with a smile, shaking his hand.

Sao Feng stalked out of the office. The door slammed behind him, and the people still inside the office could hear him screaming out orders to his men in Malay. Inside the office, however, it was silent.

Cecily rounded on Will. "What the hell were ye thinking?" she snarled. "I don't know where Calypso is! I didn't even think she bloody existed!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Will shouted back. "I don't know what wide-eyed nodding translates to!"

"But ye should have known who _did_ know where Calypso was," Cecily snapped. "It was painfully obvious to the rest o' us!"

"It certainly was not!"

Cecily sighed and shook her head in disgust. Then she turned on Sparrow and Barboussa. "Where is this bloody sea goddess?" she asked.

The two pirates stared at one another. "Now, how are we supposed to know something like that?" Barboussa returned.

"Oh, so ye won't tell me?" she asked. "Well, fine, I suppose I don't need to know. But ye two are going to take Sao Feng to her, should he survive the fight – and if Calypso knows what's good fer her, she'll see to it that he won't – and that's that."

"No, we bloody are not!" Sparrow cried indignantly.

"No again? Pity," Cecily countered. "Because should one o' ye decide to cooperate, I'd be willin' to make it worth yer while. The man who decides to bring Sao Feng to his bloody sea goddess gets Davy Jones' heart. I'll be in me office should one o' ye decide to take the deal o' yer lifetime."

Cecily turned on her heel and walked briskly out of the office, Norrington close on her heels. Will rushed out after them.

"Wait!" he cried, catching up to her on deck and grabbing her by the arm. "Jones' heart was meant to be mine!"

"Well that was be'ore ye got us into _this_ mess, wasn't it?" Cecily snapped. "And I don't remember that we ever agreed on the matter."

"I need his heart to save my father!" Will shouted.

"I really don't think ye should be yellin' at me, darling, not after I just saved yer arse from Sao Feng, the pirate lord famous for his cruelty," Cecily snarled. "I've had me final word on the subject. The only way ye'll get the heart is if _ye_ agree to take Sao Feng to Calypso… and since we already know ye can't, let's not fool ourselves into thinkin' that's goin' to happen."

"You lied to me!" Will exclaimed.

"Ye lied to Sao Feng!" Cecily retorted. "And no I didn't!"

She was about to leave him, but he hung his head so dejectedly, she felt she had to say something. "Perhaps ye ought to discuss it with one o' yer captains, darling," she suggested. "Should one o' them come forward and get the heart, maybe they'll be willin' to help ye out. After all, apparently they owe their ship to ye."

Cecily and Norrington removed themselves from the _Pearl_, leaving Will to wallow in his misery.

* * *


	17. Sabotage

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: Sorry to anyone out there who was following this story! I know it's been like, I don't know, a month - but I got a major case of writer's block and just recently got reinspired. Sorry! Thanks for reading!

* * *

Chapter 19: Sabotage

Cecily sat in the _Dauntless_'s office at Norrington's desk, contemplating the map before her. Before they had set sail for Dominica, Cecily had taken Tia Dalma's map from her office and brought it with her on board the _Dauntless_. Now she was staring at it, fingering a nail above the desk.

"Calypso," she announced into the empty room, dropping the nail.

The nail flew across the room, hit the wall, and dropped to the floor.

Cecily sighed, rubbing her temples. She snatched another nail up off the desk and held it above the map as she had the first.

"The sea goddess," she said, letting the nail drop.

The nail flew back at her, narrowly missing her face, and dropping to the floor just behind her chair. "Shite!' Cecily exclaimed as she barely dodged the nail. She picked it up off the floor, now quite angry, and held it above the map again.

"Calypso the sea goddess," she tried.

The nail dropped straight, bounced off the table, landed on its side, and rolled off the side of the desk, hitting the floor with a tiny clink.

She grabbed another nail from the desk and repeated the process. "Any deity of any kind!" she half shouted, in a fit of anger. The nail tossed itself to the side and bounced off the window, hitting the floor.

"Damn it!" Cecily exploded, knocking over several containers and knickknacks sitting on the desktop, sending them toppling to the floor and spilling their contents.

"Those were expensive."

Cecily looked up at the voice to find Norrington standing in the doorway to the office. "What the bloody hell do ye want?" she snapped.

"You know, you may be commodore right now," Norrington announced. "But I was under the impression that this was still my office."

"I've commandeered it," Cecily returned snidely.

"I'm assuming neither Barboussa nor Sparrow stepped up and took the deal before we pulled out, did they?" Norrington inquired.

"What does it look like?" Cecily snarled.

"And your map won't disclose Calypso's location?"

"Obviously not."

Norrington approached the desk and sat in one of the chairs across from Cecily. "So what do you intend to do about Sao Feng?" he asked.

Cecily shrugged. "Lie?"

Norrington let go a soft chuckle. "I'm afraid that will only last so long, Cecily."

Cecily shrugged again. "Maybe he'll die in battle," she said, rather too hopefully.

"And if he doesn't?"

"Maybe I'll kill him meself."

Norrington laughed again, but quickly sobered. "Seriously, Cecily, I'm afraid you've managed to get yourself into quite a mess. You lied to Sao Feng, and you have no way to repay him what you promised. And what's worse, is if Sparrow or Barboussa finally decide to take your deal and take Sao Feng to this Calypso person, or goddess, or whatever she is, then you will have to give them the heart of Davy Jones. And that's going to break the deal you made with Davy Jones to return his heart to him. And when you break a deal with Davy Jones, well, from what I've heard, it doesn't end well for you."

"Thank ye fer explainin' all that to me, James," Cecily said sarcastically. "I'm glad I have ye to state the obvious fer me. Otherwise, how would I have known that I'm in shite no matter which way I go? Now, unless ye have something truly useful to say, kindly shut up and get out of yer office!"

"I have an idea," he announced.

Cecily perked. "Well, why didn't ye say so in the first place?"

"Once this is all over," James announced. "I intend to return to my post as commodore. I realize that this might be hard, but I have it on good authority that the King hasn't had communication from Lord Beckett in quite some time. I also have it on good authority that the King suspects Beckett of planning an uprising against him. He is suspicious that Beckett is conspiring to take his throne, and in all fairness, that is probably a very accurate suspicion."

"Does this have a point?" Cecily interrupted impatiently.

"Wait until I get there," Norrington snapped. "If we destroy Beckett in this battle without letting too much word get out on the whos and hows, I may be able to swing this in my favor. I may be able to convince my superiors that I was ending a revolt, and preventing treason. If I manage this, I could get Sao Feng out of your hair. I could arrest him on charges of… well, there are so many charges I could arrest him on… but the point is that I could arrest him, and then he would hang, and you would be off the hook."

"And what would ye want from me?" Cecily asked.

Norrington stared at her. "Why would I want something from you?"

"Why wouldn't ye?" Cecily returned, looking genuinely confused.

Norrington studied her face. It dawned on him that she thought they were making a bargain and that it would never occur to her in a million years that he might be offering to help her just to help her.

"Just when I start to think that there might be more to you than what meets the eye, you do something to prove that you truly are just a pirate," Norrington announced incredulously.

"_Just_ a pirate?" Cecily demanded, her eyes suddenly cold. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Norrington stood up and turned to go. "Never mind."

"Wait!" Cecily shouted, leaping from her seat and racing to cut him off before he reached the door. Her eyes were glinting dangerously. "Ye tell me right now what yer problem is, Norrington. O' course I'm a pirate, there was never any debate on _that_ topic! Are ye insultin' me? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm not insulting you," Norrington replied. "And there is nothing wrong with me. I just had a reality check, is all." He walked quite calmly out of the office.

Cecily was extremely ruffled and not sure how to proceed. She contemplated chasing after Norrington and demanding an explanation. She thought about chasing after Norrington and beating him senseless. She thought about a lot of things.

But what she did was turn slowly back to the desk, and sit down carefully, an agitated look on her face. She swallowed, and tried to calm herself down. Then she reached for another nail.

"Calypso, heathen goddess of the sea."

The nail flew off into a corner of the room and got lost behind a shelf. Cecily swore, and reached for yet another nail.

* * *

Not long after the scene in Norrington's office, both the _Dauntless _and Sao Feng's _Empress_ came upon the island Beckett had retreated to. On one side of the small island was a harbor, and it was in this harbor that the eight Navy ships in Lord Beckett's convoy were moored and making repairs. It was on the other side of the island, just off a beach that was fairly unused and far from the port overlooking the bay, that the _Dauntless_ and _Empress_ were anchored. A small group of soldiers from the _Dauntless_ had just returned from Beckett's side of the island which Captain O'Connor had sent them to check out. The news they brought was a source of relief to everyone: all eight ships were still undergoing repairs and none had left the harbor.

Despite this good news, Cecily was still concerned. The ships had been undergoing repairs long enough that it was possible reinforcements could be sent for any day now. She organized another party of men from both ships, and led them, along with Norrington and Sao Feng, to the other side of the island in order to assess the situation for herself, and to decide how to go about keeping those ships in harbor.

The trek to the other side of the island was a long, quiet, and tense one. The situation between Cecily and Norrington was extremely awkward. Neither had spoken to the other since their misunderstanding, and it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon. Occasionally, Norrington would glance her way almost guiltily, as though he regretted his harsh comment in the office and wanted to make up with her, but an icy look from her, followed by her ignoring him completely, stopped him cold.

Once they'd reached Beckett's side of the island, and Cecily had had sufficient time to survey her enemy's ships, she rounded on her troops. "All right," she announced. "See the four farthest from the docks? Those are the ships that are currently the most seaworthy. We have to somehow disable those ships so they can't leave the harbor."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Sao Feng asked coldly.

Cecily sent him a sharp glance. "I want subtlety," she responded. "But I also want results. Ye and yer men will take the two ships closest to the harbor. Look for patches in the hull, that sort o' thing. Make it look like an accident. But plug the bottom full o' holes."

Sao Feng nodded. "Yes, Commodore," he replied, his tone mockingly obedient.

He gave his men a nod, and they disappeared into the palms, heading towards the harbor. Cecily turned to Norrington. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he managed to hold his tongue. "Ye and yer men will take the ships farthest from the harbor," she said coolly, staring Norrington down, as though she were daring him to argue.

Norrington chose not to. "Ye heard what I said to Sao Feng," she continued. "Be subtle, but get me results. Undo some o' the repairs or something, nothing fancy."

Norrington nodded stiffly, and then called to his men to move out. The navy men disappeared.

Cecily sighed. Staying where she was, she watched closely as the two groups of sailors snuck off into different directions. She hoped her troops had the brains to do this without her interference, because she did not have the time to supervise. Cecily had plans of her own for the day, and they involved Lord Cutler Beckett.

With a lingering worry in her mind about the competency of Norrington and Sao Feng, Cecily turned her back on the harbor and made her way into town, in search of a drunken sailor.

* * *

Lord Cutler Beckett stood on deck of the _Endeavor_, surveying the work his men were doing. His ship had sustained the most damage during the battle, and was nowhere near being ready to sail. As for Beckett himself, he was not in the best of shape. A large bandage was wrapped around his head, covering the gaping hole where his ear used to be. There had been no saving the body part, and Beckett was more than sour about that. Captain Cecily O'Connor had become much more than a rather irritating nuisance – she was now a threat, and a particularly venomous one at that. If it was the last thing he did, Beckett swore he would revenge himself on her for the loss of his ear.

Mercer approached him from his right, and Beckett, without glancing in his right hand man's direction, announced, "The repairs seem to be going rather slowly. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Mercer?"

"I reckon they're about to be going a tab bit slower, my lord," Mercer replied. "Four of our ships sprung leaks this morning. Patches came undone. Appears to be shoddy workmanship."

Beckett sighed, irritated. "Good help these days is just so hard to find. Track down the crewmembers responsible for those repairs, and see to it they are properly disciplined."

"Ten lashes, then?"

"Oh, no, much more than ten," Beckett returned. "Time is of the essence, Mr. Mercer, and if our men cannot do things right the first time, thereby wasting time, they will have to be made to understand exactly how essential time is."

"As you wish, my lord," Mercer replied. A rather wicked smile spread across his face at Beckett's order. "My lord, what are your plans regarding our little uprising?"

Beckett smirked. He was nervous about Captain O'Connor's movement, this was true, not to mention furious about his ear, but he refused to let Mercer know that her small pirate fleet concerned him. "Well, it wasn't much of an uprising, was it now? I believe we've done enough to be sufficient. They retreated: I believe they learned their lesson. And as soon as we're ready to sail once more, this small thorn in our side will be quickly and painlessly removed. Painlessly, at least, for us."

Mercer smiled, again wickedly. "And how do you propose to remove said thorn, my lord?"

Beckett grinned slyly. "First, we will recover. And then, I'll send for Davy Jones."

"He's a loose canon, that one," Mercer warned. Beckett let out a slight chuckle.

"Yes, yes he is," Beckett agreed. "Let's hope he slaughters them, shall we?"

Next to Mercer and Beckett, a rather short man, working on the damaged railing, cast a glance over his shoulder, straightened his hat, and then slunk around behind the pair and hurried down the gangplank.

The redcoat made his way out of the harbor area and walked down through the streets of town. He headed into the tavern district and appeared to be making a beeline for the Smiling Skull – until he walked right past the door and turned down into an alleyway.

Passed out in the alleyway was a very drunk, smelly sailor, his hair falling out of its ponytail, and his gun scattered haphazardly next to him. The other sailor took off his tri-corner hat and red coat and tossed them at the unconscious man.

Captain – or Commodore – Cecily O'Connor pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail she'd pulled it into, and tied her black bandana back around her head. She smirked down at the drunken sailor, proud of what she'd accomplished. So Lord Beckett thought he was going to unleash Davy Jones on her, did he? Cecily was nowhere near as concerned as she had been. She wasn't about to let her guard done, of course, but she certainly wasn't afraid of Davy Jones carrying out Beckett's dirty work for him. It wasn't that Cecily trusted Davy Jones – the exact opposite was true, actually – but she had one thing going for her that Beckett didn't when it came to Jones: she could give Jones his freedom back, and Beckett would never do that under any circumstances. If it came down to Jones choosing between Cecily and Beckett, she was pretty damn sure that she was going to come out on top.

Cecily turned to walk out of the alleyway and nearly ran into the tall man standing behind her. She jumped slightly.

"Don't you think you should have sent someone else to do that?" James Norrington asked her.

"Do what?" Cecily asked, recovering herself. She sounded bored and disinterested.

"Sneak aboard Beckett's ship and spy on him," Norrington replied without skipping a beat.

Cecily smirked slightly, shrugging. "Well, I ne'er was very good at delegating," she replied. "Especially when the task was as important as that one was."

She walked past him, but Norrington stopped her. "You ought to be more careful," he said quietly. "You are in charge. Your men need you alive."

"Thank ye fer yer concern," she murmured dangerously. "But I think I got it under control. Good job, though, on the sabotage mission. I don't think they suspect a thing." She made to walk away again, and again Norrington stopped her.

"Did you learn anything pertaining to Beckett's plans?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "If there was anything to be concerned about, ye'd know."

"Are you really going to do this again?" he demanded, rather angrily. "I thought we'd discussed this. You being secretive helps no one, Cecily. We need to communicate."

"Things have changed," she returned. "We've expanded beyond people we can trust, and moved into dangerous territory. Communication might not be the best course o' action any longer."

"You can still trust me," Norrington pointed out. "So why can't you communicate with me?"

"Oh, now ye want to communicate?" she snapped. "Where was the communication the other day in yer office?"

Norrington gawked at her. "You're really upset about that, aren't you?"

"O' course I'm not," she rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is that our situation is changin' and maybe other things need to change too."

"What other things?"

"I've let ye have too much say in how I run things, Norrington," she said coolly. "And that was a mistake. Ye may be on me side fer now, but how long can I expect that to last? Yer Navy, Norrington. Pirates can't trust Navy men."

"Is that really what you think of me?" Norrington asked incredulously. "That I'm just regular old Navy? That you can't trust me? Nothing we've been through so far has convinced you otherwise?"

Cecily smiled at him rather cruelly. "I guess we've both had our li'l reality checks is all, James." Then she turned her back on him and strode purposefully away. Norrington didn't stop her this time. He wanted to. He wanted to chase her down and yell at her like she deserved. He wanted to call her on the fact that she was hurt, and that she was trying to hurt him back. But she had succeeded in hurting him, and so he didn't do any of those things. Instead, he decided to return to his ship – and to take the scenic route back.

* * *


	18. Definitely Didn't Deserve That

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 20: Definitely Didn't Deserve That

Captain Anamaria Freeman was a beautiful woman. She had dark, cocoa skin, big brown eyes, and long, wavy black hair. The mere sight of her was enough to make Captain Jack Sparrow drool.

It had been a long time since he laid eyes on her, and he had known other women who sparked a greater interest in him than she did in the years since they'd met, but that did not diminish her charm. Every time he saw her, Jack was reminded of the fiery woman he'd met in Tortuga who was not only unafraid to slap him, but also unafraid to shoot down anyone else who got in her way.

The _Black Pearl_ drew up alonside the_ Adulteress _silently, waving a white flag. Through his spyglass, Jack saw that fascinating woman he occasionally missed glaring suspiciously at his ship. However, when Gibbs called over to the other ship for permission to board, Captain Freeman gave it to him.

His men dropped anchor and began setting up boarding planks between the two ships. Barboussa stood next to Jack, clearly upset that he wasn't the main captain at the moment, or even the co-captain. But he wisely controlled his tongue, knowing that it wasn't in his best interest to intervene in the affairs of Jack Sparrow and his former lovers.

Captain Sparrow boarded the _Adulteress_, along with Barboussa, Will, and Elizabeth, grinning almost seductively and attempting to be cool and in control. Captain Freeman was waiting for him at the end of the boarding plank, with a rather ugly expression on her face.

Jack stepped down off the plank and grinned wide for her. "Anamaria," he announced, attempting to be warm and friendly.

_Smack!_ Anamaria slapped him across the face, and hard at that.

"I suppose you deserved that this time as well?" Will asked.

"No!" Jack announced, rather indignant. He looked at Anamaria. "Now come on, luv, I think we both know I definitely didn't deserve that."

"Oh, ye didn't, huh?" she asked in her heavy street British accent, glaring at him and chewing the inside of her mouth, managing to look tougher than any man Jack had ever met.

"Of course I didn't!" he said, smiling. "First off, we are completely square when it comes to me stealing your boat. I mean, look around ye, luv! I helped ye commandeer this ship, didn't I? I think that makes us square, wouldn't ye agree?"

Anamaria glared at him. Jack had a feeling he knew why, but Anamaria didn't seem comfortable explaining in the presence of so many other people. "Ye know what ye did," she replied, giving him a meaningful look.

Jack swallowed, hard. He did, actually. He knew exactly what he'd done.

"Yes, well," he murmured, affecting the proper 'I'm ashamed of myself' pose, "I am very sorry about that. Truly, I didn't mean for this all to work out the way it did. I'm hoping ye'll forgive me, Anamaria, because I've come to ye with a once in a lifetime offer, and I really think it'd be in yer best interest to at least hear me out."

Anamaria snorted. "Funny, Sparrow, because I'm pretty damn sure yer once in a lifetime offers usually risk me life and nearly get me killed. Is this once in a lifetime offer one o' those once in a lifetime offers?"

"Yes, well," Jack tactfully did not answer that question. "Ye see, Anamaria, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that this ocean ain't quite the place she used to be, what with the constant pirate hangings and pirate ship sinkings and crazy Navy men running amok with the power of the sea behind them. I'm confident that ye must have noticed the recent increase in Navy-induced pirate deaths on these waters, and I'm also confident that ye don't want to be next, am I right?"

"I wouldn't say ye were wrong," Anamaria retorted distrustfully. "Tell me, Sparrow, are ye about to nearly get me killed, or not?"

"Well, then, as I was saying," Jack still would not answer the question. "I'm confident that ye don't want to be next, and so I've come with a once in a lifetime opportunity for ye. Now, I know it sounds like a fairy tale, don't get me wrong, but the fact of the matter is that this particular fairytale has its roots in fact, and so I must ask that ye suspend yer skepticism, at least temporarily, and hear me without disbelief. Lord Cutler Beckett, the Royal Navy's new front man, if ye will, has recently come into possession of a very valuable li'l trinket that we'll just call 'the Heart of Davy Jones.' Now, as I said, suspend yer disbelief and pay attention, because the reason I've come to speak with ye on this fine day is that meself and a few other like-minded pirates have joined together in an effort to stop Beckett, which of course alludes to killing him, and to take the heart back from him, consequently putting an end to the tyranny of Davy Jones once and for all, and restoring the ocean back to the natural balance of things, savvy?"

Anamaria frowned at him. "Are ye offering me a spot in some poorly executed pirate liberation movement, Sparrow? Because if ye're sayin' what I think ye're sayin', then I think this once in a lifetime opportunity of yers is goin' to get me killed."

"Yes, well," he took a step closer to her, and winked at her in a confidential manner. "Let's face it, _Captain_ Freeman, ye've got considerable fame in yer own right when it comes to piratical matters, and I'd say it's only a matter of time before the good old boys in blue come sailing up behind ye, looking to put yer neck in a noose. So what I'm trying to get across to ye, luv, is that ye're goin' to be riskin' yer neck no matter which way ye go on this one. So ye might as well go down fighting, savvy?"

Anamaria surveyed him skeptically, looking unconvinced. "Those are some pretty strong words comin' from the likes of ye, Sparrow," she spat. "Seeing as, if I recall correctly, ye always were the sort to run like mad from a fight. How can I be sure ye ain't goin' to turn yer back on us _this_ time?"

Jack Sparrow considered her words for a moment, and then answered rather truthfully, for once. "I'm afraid ye can't be sure," he said. "However, there is one thing that ye _can_ be sure of, and that is the fact that one of these days, good old Lord Cutler Beckett is goin' to be comin' fer ye. And I'm sure ye don't want that, now do ye luv?"

Anamaria was still not completely convinced, but the good news was that she appeared to considering the argument. Will, suddenly struck by an idea, decided to speak up. He was almost positive that what he had to say would only endear Anamaria to their cause.

"Captain Freeman?" he inquired. Anamaria turned to him and nodded. Jack, however, froze, and gave Will the half-panicked, 'please don't do anything stupid' look. Will ignored him and continued on with his piece. "I don't know if this helps or not," he said, which of course got him another panicked look from Jack. "But I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about who's heading up this venture. See, Jack here is actually not in charge. This, um, 'pirate liberation movement,' as you called it, is actually already off to a healthy start; we have several ships gathered together in a fleet, and this fleet, like I said, isn't under control of Captain Sparrow. We take orders from another pirate captain, who we all consider to be our commodore. Perhaps you've heard of her? Her name is Captain Cecily O'Connor."

The skeptical, hard nosed look faded a bit from Anamaria's face. Will silently congratulated himself. The pirate captain before them seemed less inclined to kick them all off her ship, and more inclined to consider their offer. "Captain O'Connor, eh?" she asked. "Well, now, I seem to recall hearin' about her. Got herself a bit of a reputation in these parts. Seems like as good a candidate for the job as any."

Jack slowly began to relax. Perhaps Will hadn't completely ruined their chances by opening his mouth. Sometimes, the whelp surprised him.

Anamaria turned on him. "That's just so typical of ye, Sparrow," she spat. "Ye think it would have literally killed ye to admit that for once ye're not in charge. Couldn't possibly come clean to bein' someone else's errand boy? Didn't know quite how to tell me ye were takin' orders instead of givin' them?"

Jack began to tense up again. Damn Will, anyhow. It took all of his willpower to resist the urge to strangle the young man standing beside him. Before Jack could attempt to defend himself, however, Anamaria turned back to Will and said,

"To be perfectly honest, if I got to take orders from someone else for a change, I'd much prefer my superior to be another woman than I would a man. Ye convinced me, boy. I'll join up."

Will smiled, pleased with himself for convincing Anamaria to put aside her differences with Jack and agree to join Commodore O'Connor's fleet. Jack relaxed again, grudgingly admitting that perhaps Will had known what he was doing for a change – although, he only admitted it in his head, where no one could hear him.

"Glad to have ye aboard, Anamaria," he grinned, shaking her hand. Anamaria shook his hand back, but gave him a sniff and a sneer that could only mean she felt absolutely no respect for him, and was only agreeing to join this little venture because she wasn't going to have to take her orders from him. Jack sighed inwardly. "If ye're quite ready, I propose we set sail for our place of berth. Captain Freeman?"

"Right behind ye," she said, walking away from him and shouting out orders to her crew as she went. Jack, his smile frozen in place, turned back the opposite way and stepped up onto the boarding plank, returning to his ship. Barboussa, Will, and Elizabeth followed close behind.

"Ye know," Gibbs murmured in Jack's ear as Jack stepped back onto his ship. The two walked along the deck side by side. "I know ye get tired of me old superstitions, Cap'n, but I really do think that woman over yonder is bad news."

"All women are bad news, Mr. Gibbs," Jack returned. "However, sometimes we can't do without them."

* * *


	19. Self Control

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M - and I mean it! This chapter is going to get kind of... heavy.

* * *

Chapter 21: Self Control 

A few days had passed since Cecily's men had sabotaged four of Beckett's ships, and for those few days, Cecily and her troops had been laying low, waiting. Cecily had men constantly watching over the eight ships moored in the Dominica harbor, most of whom were Norrington's men. She didn't trust Sao Feng or his crew to do the job solo.

So far, the harbor had been quiet, and so had everything back on the other side of the island, where the _Dauntless_ and the _Empress_ were anchored. Even Norrington and Cecily, despite their previous disagreement, were relatively cool and calm. That wasn't to say that there was no lingering animosity over the words they'd exchanged, first in Norrington's office and then in the alleyway behind the local saloon. Things between them were awkward and tense, to say the least, and they exchanged the least amount of words they could get by with.

After this relative calm of the past three days or so, however, there was finally movement in the harbor. The group watching the harbor at the time sent back a single scout, one of Norrington's sailors of course, and he immediately requested to speak with Commodore O'Connor.

Cecily was pleased to be addressed before Norrington. Norrington looked slightly miffed, however, that his men were now coming to Cecily instead of him. His power and his control, he felt, were slipping.

As much fun as it would have been to rub the situation in Norrington's face, Cecily decided against it. She called Norrington _and_ Sao Feng over to hear what the young soldier had to say.

"It looks like two of Lord Beckett's ships are preparing to sail, Commodore O'Connor," the young man announced once she'd given him the signal to start talking. "They were loading when I ran back here. I think they'll be ready to leave within the hour."

Bad news. Cecily nodded. "All right, thank ye, lad," she said, hiding her concern. "Run along back to yer post and let them know we're coming. If ye can find a way to stall, then stall. Understood?"

"Aye, Commodore," the young man returned with a salute. He rushed off back the way he came.

Cecily had never been saluted before. It was rather nice. She was starting to enjoy her role as commodore, especially over the Navy men.

She turned to Sao Feng and Norrington. "Gather about the same amount o' men ye gathered the last time we went down to the harbor together," she ordered. "Ye have five minutes. Then we move out."

Norrington nodded stiffly, and left without a word. "As ye wish, _Commodore_," Sao Feng said, backing away with a slight bow. It was quite clear that his show of respect was anything but sincere. Cecily knew she was being mocked.

Sao Feng was starting to make her nervous. She knew that she'd gotten him on the fleet because he'd been grossly outnumbered during their first encounter. But that was no longer the case. The _Dauntless_ and the _Empress_ were on equal footing. And Sao Feng absolutely hated taking orders from a woman, she could tell. It was entirely possible that he was planning some sort of rebellion. And Cecily did not have the time to deal with any rebellions.

Five minutes later, both Sao Feng and Norrington returned with a considerable amount of men. Cecily led her troops to the other side of the island as quickly as possible.

When they had reached the harbor and joined with the watch party, both ships were still docked, but were clearly in the midst of preparing to raise anchor. Cecily took a moment to survey the situation, and then issued her orders.

"All right, Norrington," she snapped. "Ye take yer men to the ship farthest from our spot right here, and disable something. I don't care what. Just remember: I want subtlety. Do _not_, under any circumstance, allow them to suspect that they are being watched."

Norrington nodded curtly and led his men off to their designated target. Cecily turned on Sao Feng. "Ye and yer men get the other ship," she announced. "They're almost on their way now, and it might be rather difficult to disable anything on deck. Try to get down to the patches in the hull, preferably from the outside. Remember: be subtle. But I want the bottom o' that ship about as sturdy as Swiss cheese."

Sao Feng nodded to her as well, although with a much nastier smile on his face than Norrington had worn. He led his men to the ship closest to Cecily and her spies.

Cecily settled down with the men who had taken watch and kept a close eye on her two parties of men. No matter what the situation was with her and Norrington at the moment, she wasn't too worried about him following orders and getting the job done right. However, Sao Feng was a different story. Something in the way he'd looked at her before leaving had left her uneasy.

She watched as Norrington sent a few men on board the other ship. They blended in with the enemy sailors perfectly. No one seemed to suspect anything.

Sao Feng and his men were up on the harbor's fortification wall, outside the second story of the massive stone building. The fort was no longer in use, and there was no threat of them being seen. It looked as though they were surveying their target and discussing the best course of action. Cecily was starting to relax – until she caught sight of the cannons along the wall that were pointed directly at Sao Feng's target ship.

"Oh, shite," she spat. Then she got to her feet and raced towards Sao Feng and his small troop of pirates.

* * *

Sao Feng watched with a smirk as his men gathered beside him, discussing their plans in rushed, frantic Malay. To his right, one sailor was sneaking off towards the cannons along the wall. Sao Feng knew full well what his crewman's intent was upon reaching the heavy artillery – and he was perfectly all right with the man's chosen course of action. He did nothing to stop his subordinate as he loaded the cannon with the cannon balls they'd found stored just inside the abandoned fort. He even allowed himself a smile as the man aimed the cannon just right at the ship, lit the powder and opened fire. 

Sao Feng's crew cheered as the cannon ball flew through the ship's main mast, toppling the giant wood pole over onto the deck, destroying any possibility for sailing that day. The mast landed on the ship beside it, which Norrington had been sent to sabotage, taking out the helm.

The man who'd fired the cannon stood, surveying his handiwork with a smug smile. But the smug smile on his face was immediately wiped clean when he found himself pinned to the exterior wall of the fort behind them, wincing under the stranglehold of Cecily O'Connor.

"What the hell were ye thinking!" she shouted in the crewman's face. "Don't ye understand the meaning of subtlety?!"

Sao Feng approached the struggling pair without haste. He'd seen Cecily approach as the cannon was fired. Quite frankly, he was glad it had all worked out this way.

The crewman sneered at his commodore. "I was getting the job done."

"And ye did a slipshod job o' it!" Cecily thundered back. "Ye just gave away our position! There's no way they can write that off as an accident!"

The crewman continued to sneer. "You're not my captain."

"No, I ain't, thank the gods fer that," Cecily snapped. "But I sure as hell am yer commodore, and ye need to start followin' orders!"

"I'll never follow orders from a woman," he spat.

Cecily's eye twitched with anger. Then she tossed him into the stacked barrels of gunpowder beside them. "Ye'll follow orders," she yelled. "Or ye'll take a trip off the plank!"

"Commodore O'Connor," Sao Feng announced, sliding up beside her. "I think you had best leave the managing of my crew to me."

"All right then," Cecily snapped, turning on him. "And how do ye propose to deal with insubordination?"

"Has he been insubordinate?" Sao Feng asked mildly. "I've seen no sign of it."

Cecily glowered. "Am I to understand ye will not take responsibility for the discipline of this man?"

Sao Feng shrugged. "If you are not his captain, how can he be insubordinate? My hands are tied."

"Fine," Cecily snapped. She turned back to the man, who was getting to his feet with a look of pure rage on his face. "Luckily, I don't share yer views."

The man stood still, angry but not stupid enough to retaliate for the toss into the barrels. Cecily stormed the disobedient crewmember and drew her pistol, heaving it into his head and knocking him to the ground. The crewman tried to get up, but she hit him again with the pistol, this time in the back of the head, and then a third time across the back. The man slumped to the ground, bruised and bloodied, barely conscious.

Cecily glowered at the man at her feet. It wasn't a pretty sight, but she hadn't gotten into piracy for its civility. A long time ago, what she had done might have bothered her, but not any longer. "The next time ye think ye're too good to take orders from women," she spat. "Remember the last time ye didn't."

She rounded on Sao Feng's crew, fire in her eyes. "All o' ye, get out o' here be'ore Beckett's men come lookin' around fer ye! Ye two," she ordered, pointing at two random men near her. "Take this idiot with ye," she said, nodding at the man she'd beaten.

Not one person argued. The two men she'd singled out hefted their comrade from the ground and carried him between them as they hurried away from the fort. All the other men were far ahead of the aforementioned three, rushing for the _Empress _on the other side of the island. Cecily marched down the stairs of the fort, back into the overgrown jungle around the massive building. Sao Feng followed her, and then grabbed her arm, tossing her inside the open door at the foot of the steps. He followed her inside the dimly lit room, only to find himself at the end of her pistol. "Do ye need a lesson in followin' orders too?" she asked coldly. "I won't hesitate to teach it to ye."

"I merely wanted to discuss with you the incident that just occured," Sao Feng replied calmly, yet rather dangerously. "I do not like that you seem to think you have authority over my crew."

"That's just too damn bad, ain't it darling?" she snapped. "Because here's the facts: I _do_ have authority o'er yer crew. Yer crew, and ye too. It's about damn time ye learn that. I don't have time fer it to sink in gradually."

"I am not accustomed to taking orders from _anyone_, much less the likes of you," Sao Feng snarled.

"Then I'll make it real simple fer ye, Sao Feng," Cecily growled. "Either get accustomed to it, or take a bullet in the head. Yer call, darling."

For a long moment, they glowered at one another. Finally, Sao Feng relented, and held up his hands in defeat. "I suppose it will take some getting used to," he murmured, rather reluctantly. "But I will make the attempt."

"That's what I wanted to hear," Cecily returned, sounding rather sarcastic in her reply. She slowly lowered her gun, and then slid it back into its holster. "It's time to head back."

She made to walk past him and out the door, but Sao Feng blocked her way. "Do you know why I think it is so important for me to find Calypso?" he asked. "Perhaps you do not know all the story."

"Perhaps not," Cecily agreed, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why? Are ye plannin' on tellin' me?"

Sao Feng turned to her, looking her directly in the eye. "Calypso is the goddess of the sea," he announced. "But she is not as powerful as she once was. A long time ago, at the first meeting of the Court of the Brethren – I assume you know what that is?"

"Aye," Cecily spat. "I know o' the Court."

"At their first meeting," he continued. "They performed some very powerful magic that would bind Calypso in her bones, trap her in a single form – that of a human woman. I have always disagreed with the notion. And now, in light of our current situation, I wish to set her free."

"How very nice o' ye," Cecily returned. "I'm sure she'll be appreciative."

"It is very strange to meet a woman like you," Sao Feng went on, ignoring her snide comment. "A strong woman, but also a very appealing woman. One who can give the men around her a smile and most of them will jump to do her bidding. But at the same time, a woman capable of pistol whipping an insubordinate soldier into submission. You are strange, very strange. Inconstant, if you will."

Cecily honestly didn't quite know what he was getting at. "What's yer point?"

"They say that if a man were to know Calypso's touch – _truly_ know her – then he will be blessed in ways that most men could never know," he said.

Cecily didn't care for the way he was looking at her. "And how do ye convince her yer worth the trouble?" she asked, scoffing.

"If she believes you are worthy, then she will offer," he replied. He was getting far too close to her. Cecily was starting to get very uncomfortable.

"And if she don't?" she asked, sounding bored.

"Personally? Then I will take," Sao Feng said.

"I suppose that makes ye a man," she returned dryly, walking around him and heading for the door.

Suddenly, Sao Feng grabbed her arm and yanked her back from the doorway, getting a hold of her other arm as she was drawn closer to him, and then slamming her into the wall. Cecily glared up at him, and Sao Feng looked hard into her face, his eyes glinting in a strange, almost crazed way. But before either one of them could make a move, James Norrington walked into the fort.

He stopped and stared at the sight before him. "Am I intruding?" he asked.

"Not at all, James," Cecily replied, not removing her eyes from Sao Feng's. She gave him a hard, warning look. "We're finished."

She strode out the door. James looked at Sao Feng, who was staring off into the darkness of the chamber. Then he followed Cecily out of the fort.

* * *

Cecily stormed back onto the _Dauntless_ and headed down below to the room she'd been sleeping in for the past several days. She'd just reached the foot of the stairs when James, who had been on her heels all the way back from the other side of the island, finally caught up to her, and took her by the arm. "Cecily," he said, slightly breathless. "I want to talk to you." 

"About what?' Cecily snapped, rounding on him.

He drew back as though bitten, but pushed on. "What was happening back at the fort between you and Sao Feng?" he demanded.

"I don't see that that's any o' yer business, Norrington," she retorted coldly.

"It is too my business," he replied evenly. "I don't want to see you make the wrong choice."

"My choices are none o' yer business, no matter what ye want to see," she said, growing rather angry. "I'll thank ye to leave them up to me, and go on takin' me orders like a good li'l subordinate."

"You can treat me like I'm a peon, Cecily, I really don't care," James tossed back. "I know I hurt you the other day, and this is how you're retaliating."

"Don't give yerself so much credit."

"Why not? It's true, and you know it. But I'm worried about you right now, and I'm not about to let a petty disagreement stand in my way. I know you enjoy having your… well, trysts… but Sao Feng is a dangerous man, Cecily, and you ought to watch your step around him."

"Oh, I see,' Cecily gave a short, bitter laugh. "Ye think I'm goin' to screw Sao Feng. Well, rest easy, James, I ain't the least bit interested in the new recruit. But thank ye, thank ye very much fer thinkin' so low o' me. Don't get me wrong, I'm the first to admit I can be a whore, but to think that I jump everything that crosses me path is an insult I didn't think even _ye_ would bestow on me. Do ye really think I'd be chasin' after a man like that, especially after that unbelievably stupid stunt he pulled today? He's probably ruined us, and I told him so. But no, ye're right James. E'ery time I look at a man, I'm wonderin' what he'd look like in me bed. So thank ye, thank ye e'er so much fer yer concern."

Cecily turned from him, storming around the corner. James followed, grabbing her arm. "Wait," he said softly.

Cecily stopped and sighed impatiently, refusing to look at him. "What do ye want now?" she asked, clearly anxious to get away from him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "But what I saw when I entered the fort… it looked as though the two of you were closer than you needed to be."

"Fine," Cecily snapped, impatient. "Are ye finished?"

James gave her a searching look. "No, I don't think I am," he returned. "You _were_ much closer than you needed to be."

"If ye say so."

"You may not be interested in him, but that doesn't mean he's not interested in you," Norrington pressed. "What was going on when I walked in, Cecily?"

"None o' yer damn business!"

"So that's it then, isn't it?" James shook his head. "He was after you."

"Shut up, James," Cecily snapped. "Ye don't what ye're talkin' about."

"Just tell me the truth, for once," James replied. "Did I walk in at just the right moment?"

"No," Cecily looked enraged. "Ye did not. I do not need yer help, James, not then and not ever. I had the situation under control."

"So I'm right then."

"Not the way ye think ye are," she retorted.

Norrington said nothing. He merely stared at her and waited for her to tell him the story.

Cecily sighed. How the hell did that man get her to talk when she didn't want to, simply by looking at her? "He thinks I'm Calypso," she said quietly.

Norrington frowned. "What? Why?"

"I don't know! I think he may be one egg short o' a dozen, if ye get me drift," Cecily replied. "He said something about Calypso bein' trapped in human form, and how her touch will bless the man she's with – and I don't know, I think he thinks I'm her. And that was all there was to that."

James stared at her. "Perhaps you… perhaps you should keep away from him."

Cecily gawked at him. "I beg yer pardon, Norrington?"

"He's dangerous, Cecily," he repeated. "And I… well, I… I just…"

"What are ye tryin' to say, James? Come on, spit it out!"

Norrington let loose an exasperated sigh. "I don't want you to get hurt!" he exploded. "There! Are you happy?"

Cecily stared at him, looking rather frightened if truth be told. "I… I'm not entirely sure," she replied.

Silence fell over them. Cecily stared, shocked, at the man in front of her. Norrington looked everywhere that wasn't her face, obviously a bit embarrassed. Finally he sighed, and looked down at her.

She was still staring at him, still shocked, and his eyes met hers. For a moment they just looked at one another, as though neither could believe that their exchange had just happened. Norrington sighed again, looking away from her, even more embarrassed now. He brushed past her and walked on towards his quarters.

Cecily caught his arm. "James," she murmured.

He turned to her and saw that she was no longer shocked. She was staring at him with something like apprehension. Then she walked forward, close enough that their chests were touching, and kissed him hard on his mouth.

James kissed her back, surprised at first, but quickly finding that he didn't care why she was kissing him, only that she was. The next thing he knew, he had lifted her up off the ground, pressing her tightly against him, and she had wrapped her legs around his waist, and knocked his wig and hat to the floor. Her fingers were running through his long dark hair, and James was suddenly surprised to discover that he had put his tongue in her mouth. He stumbled backwards toward his quarters, still caught up in kissing Cecily, and he raced through the open door, slamming it closed behind him.

Cecily found herself being thrown down on Norrington's bunk, and looked up to see him tearing off his jacket. He crawled on top of her, grabbing her face in his hands, and forcing his lips down on hers. She seized the back of his neck, pulling him down towards her, and he pinned her beneath him, tugging on her shirt. Cecily let go of him long enough for James to yank her shirt off over her head, and for her to do the same to him, and then they were back in their embrace, rolling on top of James' mattress, and struggling to get off the rest of their clothes.

They were unsure how exactly it had happened, but they had both lost their self control, and suddenly, they found themselves right back where they'd started, during that one memorable week in Tortuga.

* * *


	20. Two Types of Surly

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to Biggi for the review!

* * *

Chapter 22: Two Types of Surly

The _Fate's Plaything_ dropped its anchor in the harbor, next to a large, older wooden ship that was painted a very dark purple and trimmed in maroon. It wasn't much to look at, but Captain Skip Worchester knew from experience that the _Doncella Inocente_ should never be judged based on appearance.

Skip boarded the other pirate ship and found the first mate waiting for him. "Joe," he murmured, nodding at him. "Where's Captain Vontoya?"

"In his quarters, Cap'n Worchester," Joe replied. 'But, uh… I don't think he wants to be disturbed right now."

"I don't give a damn what he wants," Skip snapped. "I have somethin' very important to discuss with his stupid ass, and I don't have time to waste."

"I don't know if now is the best time to discuss _anythin'_ with Captain Vontoya," Joe insisted.

"There ain't no best time ever," was Skip's ornery reply. "He's just going to have to talk to me now, and deal with it."

Skip stalked down towards the stairs leading down under the deck. "Wait, Captain Worchester!" Joe exclaimed. "Ye don't understand! Captain Vontoya's a bit… indisposed."

Skip looked ready to throttle Joe. But suddenly he calmed down, as though something had dawned on him. "_Indisposed_?" he asked.

"Aye, Captain Worchester," Joe said, looking nervous. "He's been done there pretty long this time."

"Damn it!" Skip swore, kicking at a nearby longboat. "I ain't about to deal with this shit!" He paused, looking furious, and then shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I am not waiting for this crap. He's goin' to see me now."

Skip stormed down below deck to Captain Vontoya's quarters. Joe didn't stop him this time, but stood looking rather nervously after him.

When he'd reached the door to the captain's quarters, Skip pounded on it loudly and angrily. "Constantine Vontoya!" he shouted. "Ye get yer ass up out of there now! I got a business proposition fer ye!"

There was no response. "Ye hear me in there?" Skip was not about to give up. "Hey! Vontoya! Open this door!"

There was some giggling, and a shushing noise, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Skip rolled his eyes, and burst into the room.

Constantine Vontoya was a stocky, dark skinned Spaniard, with large brown eyes and long black hair. He started as Skip entered the room. The busty blond prostitute in the bed with him jumped up in surprise, clutching her sheets to her chest. "Is he joinin' us?" she asked. "Cause that's goin' to cost extra."

"Get the hell out of here, ye stupid whore!" Skip growled. There was nothing scarier than a growl from Skip Worchester. The prostitute gathered her things and stumbled out of Constantine's quarters as though the hounds of hell were on her tail.

Constantine laughed uproariously. "You always know how to spoil my good time," he announced in his heavy Spanish accent, still sounding amused.

"Are ye drunk?" Skip demanded.

"Among other things," Constantine replied. He got to his feet, wrapping the sheet around his waist. Upon standing, he nearly fell on his face, but steadied himself by grabbing a hold of one of the bed posts. Skip swore, and rolled his eyes.

"Ye are a disgrace," he spat.

"And you aren't?" the other pirate captain asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I ain't nowhere near as bad as ye, Constantine."

Constantine laughed, and then stumbled over to where his clothes lay on the floor. "And exactly what brings Captain Skip Worchester to my humble abode this fine afternoon?"

"How long have you been done here, anyway?" Skip snapped irritably.

"Days," Constantine returned dismissively. "I think."

Skip sighed. "Look, I came here about the growin' Navy threat in these waters, 'cause I got a friend who wants to do something about it. But if _this_ is what I'm goin' to be bringin' back to her, than maybe I'll just turn the hell around and go back to where I came from."

"Her?" Constantine asked, confused at first. Then he snorted, realizing that 'her' could mean only one person. "Oh, you must mean the lovely Captain O'Connor. How is she?"

"Still doesn't want a damn thing to do with ye," Skip returned. "But I swore I could bring her back another ship for her fleet, and ye're all I could come up with."

"Oh, how charming," Constantine returned, digging a bottle of rum out of his desk. He unscrewed it and took a heavy drink. "Do you want some?"

"No, thanks," Skip said. He was less than impressed with Constantine's current condition. The man was a good pirate, and a good friend, but he was always getting himself in trouble when it came to his drinking, his drugs, and his whores.

"Ah, trying to be a good boy, are we?" Constantine smirked. "You trying to make mama proud?"

"Look," Skip snarled. "I came here because, like I already said, there's been some serious problems lately when it comes to the Navy."

"They have been pulling in pirates at an alarming rate," Constantine agreed, taking another drink. "But how is that my concern? If they get caught, then they should pay the price for their stupidity."

"Oh, ye're one to be talkin' about stupidity," Skip snapped. "Ye won't be a problem for Lord Cutlet Beckett at all if ye keep goin' on like this. He'll hang ye one mornin' before ye even wake up."

Constantine snorted, waving Skip's comment off, and taking another drink.

"Constantine, I'm tryin' to save yer life here," Skip announced, rather annoyed by this point. "The Navy's joined forces with the East India Trading Company, and they're out fer blood. They ain't goin' to back off until every last one of us pirates is done fer… and Commodore O'Connor thinks they got an ace up their sleeve that's goin' to allow them to accomplish their goal."

"_Commodore_ O'Connor?" Constantine laughed. "Well, your little girlfriend sure came up in the world, did she not? You always did like the bossy ones."

Skip was used to comments like this from Constantine, and he wasn't the least bit upset by them. He knew where he stood with Cecily: they were good friends, and occasionally they got friendlier than they needed to be. That was all there was to it. And he wasn't going to take Constantine's bait. This was far too important.

"Constantine, would ye put the bloody rum down fer one minute and hear what I'm tryin' to tell yer dumb ass?" Skip snapped. "The only chance us pirates got is to fight back. So Commodore O'Connor is gettin' together a fleet, to take on Lord Beckett's convoy and stop him before he kills every last one of us. And yer drunk ass has been lucky enough to receive an invitation to join up."

"You want me to sail under one of your girlfriends?" Constantine laughed again.

"Hey, it was just an idea," Skip returned. "But I don't know if I want ye anymore, though. If ye sober up, maybe, but in this state…?

"What are you saying, Worchester?" Captain Vontoya suddenly snarled, going from good-natured drunk to offended and proud pirate captain. "You trying to tell me that I am not good enough for your little resistance effort?"

"Well, _I _know ye are good enough," Skip said, smiling inwardly at his old friend. He knew that getting a drunk Constantine riled up was exactly the best course of action if he wanted the Spaniard to join Cecily's fleet. If he made it sound like Constantine wasn't wanted and would have to prove himself, he knew the man would be there faster than a flash of lightening – and he'd show up sober, too. "But Commodore O'Connor on the other hand, well – let's just say she's a different story."

"Ha!" Constantine gave a short bitter laugh. "Who does that uppity little old maid think she is? _I'm_ not good enough for _her_ fleet? I'm Constantine Vontoya – the likes of her should be so lucky as to have the likes of me on her side. What does a fearsome pirate captain like _me_ want with an old whore who doesn't know her place? Ha! As if she could _ever_ measure up to me!"

"Well, in her defense Constantine, ye _are_ drunk, high, and mongering whores, aren't ye?" Skip replied, trying to hide an amused smile. "And she's managed to become a pirate commodore. Who's makin' waves, ye or her?"

"Ha!" Constantine gave another bitter laugh. "I just have not found my niche yet. Wait until I hit it big – that bitchy Mick won't have nothing on me!"

"Ok, that's enough, Constantine," Skip said, rolling his eyes. "Are ye in or not?"

"The hell I'm just going to sit here and let that whore get all the credit for this!" Constantine shouted. He was plenty riled up now, and plenty intoxicated. "You bet your ass I'm in, Skippy, whether that stupid bitch wants me or not."

"Let's not call her that, all right?" Skip intervened, starting to feel like he ought to be defending his old friend.

"Fine, fine," Constantine waved him off. "I always forget – you like those bitchy, power-hungry, ball-breaking types. The more she bosses you around, the more you want in her pants. I'll just stop then. But you can tell your little girlfriend that I'm joining up because I don't possibly see how this fight can be won without me – and that I have absolutely no respect for her: the slutty, aging, screeching siren that she is!"

"So that's a yes then?"

"That's a yes, Skippy. I'm in."

"And ye won't regret it once ye sober up?" Skip pressed.

"Never, Skippy. I'm in for the long haul. Give me the night to regain my dignity, and then we'll set sail tomorrow. We'll deliver those Navy bastards to the gates of Hell!"

"Glad to hear yer enthusiasm, Captain Vontoya," Skip grinned. "Welcome to the fleet."

* * *

The light of the setting sun streamed in through the portholes in James Norrington's quarters, casting its rays across the rumpled bunk, where two sleeping figures were lying on top of one another. A sudden loud knock on the door startled the couple awake.

Cecily sat up, clutching the sheets to her bare chest. She looked at Norrington in panic, and he called, "Who is it?"

"It's Herman, sir. We haven't been able to find Commodore O'Connor all afternoon. Some of the boys thought you should know."

"I'm sure she's fine," Norrington replied. "She probably went to check on the harbor!"

"Maybe you're right, sir! Sorry to have disturbed you!"

Cecily poked Norrington and gave him a meaningful look. "Was there something you needed her to know?" he called quickly.

"No, sir. Everything's quiet at the docks."

They listened in silence to the sound of Herman's fading footsteps. When they were sure he was gone, Cecily scooted away from James towards the end of the bed, still holding the sheets around her. "Where are me bloody pants?" she grumbled, looking around.

"Across the room," Norrington replied, gesturing to the black garment that had somehow managed to get caught on a sconce.

Cecily sighed. "Shite."

They were quiet again, very awkwardly not looking at one another. Suddenly, Cecily exclaimed, "Why the hell did we do that?"

Norrington shrugged. "Well, I think we can both agree that it _was_ building up for awhile."

"Yes, but we should never have let it go that far!" Cecily snapped. "What the hell did ye think ye were doing?"

"Me?" Norrington sounded scandalized. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I believe _you_ were the one who kissed _me_!"

"Yes, but ye're the bloody Navy man!" she argued. "Ye're supposed to have some self control! I'm a pirate – everyone knows I don't have any o' that."

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Oh, please," he returned. "Don't blame _me_ for your indiscretions. I think we both know who's responsible here."

Cecily sighed. "Fine," she conceded. "Both o' us messed up."

"Messed up?" Norrington asked. "Is that how we're choosing to look at this?"

Cecily started. "Should we look at this in any other way?"

Norrington didn't look hurt, exactly, but he did look annoyed. "Well, it wasn't a mistake the first time it happened," he retorted. "You seemed fine with it back in Tortuga."

"Aye, well _ye_ didn't," Cecily returned. "Ye keep tellin' everyone who finds out about it that ye were drunk, desperate, and doin' things ye weren't proud of."

"Yes, well, that's different," Norrington attempted to explain.

"How so?"

"Well… I don't know, it just is."

It was Cecily's turn to roll her eyes. "Come off it, Norrington," she said. "Ye were ashamed o' me."

"I wasn't ashamed, I was just…"

"Ashamed," she interrupted. "Don't worry about hurtin' me feelings, James, I know I'm nothing to be proud of."

Norrington sighed, his head in his hands. "Well, see, now you're upset. All I wanted to say was…."

"I ain't upset, James," Cecily interrupted him again. "I'm just statin' what's true. Ye were ashamed o' me. It's not like I was real proud o' ye, either. I got plenty o' flack fer sleepin' with the Navy."

Norrington looked at her. "In Tortuga, what we did didn't mean a whole lot," he murmured. "Now is different, and I think we both know that. That's all I wanted to say."

"Ye think now is different?" Cecily asked.

"I _know_ now is different," he replied. "Let's not ignore the particulars of this latest liaison. We've gotten closer since we started sailing together. You don't like that, I can tell. But we have. And I know you'll never admit it, and you'll probably hurt me for saying this, but you've come to rely on me."

"I have not!" Cecily exclaimed indignantly.

"And I have found myself trying to help you," Norrington pushed on. "No matter what the circumstance. I worry about you, for some reason. I find it as strange as you do."

Cecily harrumphed. "Oh, well, now ye're just makin' mountains out o' molehills, aren't ye? So we progressed from childish bickerin' to friendly conversation. That doesn't mean…."

Norrington interrupted her. "I told you I didn't want to see you hurt. And you responded by kissing me. What does that tell you?"

"I don't know," Cecily snapped, rather flustered if truth be told. "I don't want to talk about this anymore! Just… just… just make sure none o' the others find out about this!"

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, because I am a complete idiot, Cecily. I was going to go around telling everyone that I shagged you so they'd congratulate me like a couple of stupid teenagers in the town pub. What do you take me for?"

Cecily snorted angrily. "Whatever. I'm glad to see we're on the same page. Now if ye excuse me, I am goin' to get dressed and get out o' this room! Sao Feng made a huge mess earlier today, and I should have spent the afternoon cleaning it up instead o' in yer bed."

"You know, the only reason you're so angry right now is because you know what I said makes sense," Norrington couldn't help but say as she struggled to wrap the sheet around her and get out of the bunk.

"Oh, shut up, I know no such thing," Cecily retorted, finally standing. Norrington reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back to the bed. She fell on top of him, and he kissed her hard. Cecily gasped slightly, but didn't try to stop him or pull away. She kissed him back, starting to lose control of herself for a second time that day, and then….

Norrington stopped. He pulled away and smirked at her. Cecily glared at him, standing up in a fury, and smacked him in the face. Norrington winced slightly – Cecily O'Connor was a closed fist type of girl – and made no comment as she got dressed and left his quarters.

What irritated her most, Cecily decided as she left, was that no matter what the circumstance, her relationship with James Norrington always ended up being a power play – and right now, Norrington was regaining the control.

* * *


	21. The Element of Surprise

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 23: The Element of Surprise

For the next couple of days, Cecily and Norrington mostly avoided one another. When they were forced to communicate, Cecily tried to act as if the constant smirk on Norrington's face didn't bother her, even though he was actually driving her nuts. He seemed rather smug about what they'd done in his quarters that afternoon of a few days ago, and Cecily didn't care for it at all. She liked to be the smug one, and right now, Norrington had taken control. The worst part was Cecily wasn't entirely sure how she was going to get that control back.

As she walked along the beach, contemplating that very problem – although she had originally been trying to figure out how to fix the mess Sao Feng had made – the very thing she'd been afraid of since the attack on Beckett's ships happened. One of Norrington's men, a rather attractive young man that had been among the first to address Cecily as Commodore O'Connor, cut his way through the palms in the center of the island, coming from his watch duty at the harbor. He sought her out immediately.

"What is it?" she asked as soon as he approached her.

"This might be nothing, but it might be something," the Navy soldier replied. "Beckett's men have been repairing their ships furiously, and none of them are seaworthy just yet, but his right hand man, Daniel Mercer, left the harbor in the company of one soldier earlier this afternoon and hasn't been seen in a while."

"Did anyone follow him?" Cecily demanded.

"We tried," the soldier said. "But they gave us the slip. Figured I ought to come back and let you know."

"Ye figured right," Cecily returned. "Thank ye fer lettin' me know. I suppose ye ought to return to the harbor and see if ye can't figure out what's goin' on down there."

"Aye, Commodore," the man said with a salute, and then he disappeared back into the palm trees.

Cecily sighed heavily. This was the last thing she had wanted to hear. It certainly wasn't the last thing she'd expected, but this latest piece of information was anything but welcome news. Beckett had become suspicious of the sabotage done to his ships, and it was all due to Sao Feng's ridiculous little attempt to assert himself. The fury she'd felt when the pirate lord had ordered the cannon fired returned now in full force. Thanks to him, there were two spies snooping around the island, and Cecily had to find and dispose of them.

She went off to alert the rest of her troops. Norrington was headed down the beach from the opposite direction Cecily was walking. With mild annoyance, Cecily approached the Navy commodore. As soon as she got close to him, she saw that infuriating little smirk appear on his face. "Do you need something, Commodore O'Connor?" he asked humorously.

"Wipe that idiot smile off yer face, Norrington," Cecily growled. "We have a problem. Beckett's got two spies lookin' fer our men."

Norrington immediately turned serious. "How long have they been out?"

"Not too long, but we can't take any chances. Ye alert the rest o' the men, and I'll go and try to find them."

"Why you?" Norrington asked. Cecily glowered at him.

"Let's not start this. I'm goin', and that's all there is to it. Now ye git and do yer job, Norrington." Cecily walked away from him, intent on finding this Daniel Mercer and his soldier companion. She was gratified to see that Norrington had rushed to the nearest longboat to carry out her orders.

* * *

A couple hours later, after Cecily had scoured both the beach and the surrounding jungle in an attempt to find the spies, she had some luck. Standing out on the beach, looking at the two ships moored off the coast, was a Navy soldier that Cecily didn't recognize. Granted, she supposed she couldn't honestly say she remembered all the faces of Norrington's men, but this soldier was far too clean and up to standard to be one of the _Dauntless_'s crew. Ever since Cecily had taken over, the men on board the Navy ship had gotten lax about their appearance: and Cecily had no intention of cracking down.

Cecily edged out of the jungle, silently drawing her pistol. She crossed over the beach towards the Navy man. He suddenly turned around in surprise, probably hearing her step. Cecily automatically leveled her pistol at his head and cocked it. They were about ten feet apart, and she could see the look of fear on the soldier's face. "What the hell are ye doin' on me beach?" she snarled.

The young soldier was shaking, his hands up in surrender. He looked terrified. Cecily supposed he was a young kid, just out of the nest, who'd looked to the Navy as his best chance at making it, and was now wondering exactly what the hell he'd gotten himself into. But even still, Cecily was hardened against any sympathy for the green and pitiful sailor. "Answer me, lad," she growled.

"I'm just lookin' around," the boy managed to stammer. Cecily snorted.

"Lookin' around and then carryin' tales, I suppose," she spat. "Where's yer pal?"

The boy shook his head, wide-eyed. "There ain't nobody but me, ma'am," he stuttered. It was so obvious he was lying that Cecily nearly laughed.

"One more chance to answer me truthfully," she said. "And then I'll be askin' ye fer one good reason why I shouldn't kill ye."

"Actually, I think that might be a better question for you, my good commodore," a haughty British accent sounded to her left. A pistol cocked in her ear. The soldier still looked terrified, but he also looked more hopeful.

"Let me guess," Cecily said with a smirk, her eyes still focused on the soldier at the end of her pistol. "Mr. Daniel Mercer?"

"Ah, she's not so stupid, after all," Mercer replied. "That's very reassuring, quite a comfort to the dignity of my lord. After that stunt with the cannons the other day, we began to question your intelligence, my good Commodore O'Connor. Shame that would have been, to be outsmarted by a halfwit."

"Lucky fer ye, I guess ye weren't," Cecily returned. "Now can I ask what the bloody hell ye think ye're doin' on me side o' the island? I don't want to be petty or nothin' but ye got yer own harbor and I ain't interested in sharing."

"Cocky to the last?" Mercer asked. "Also quite reassuring. Ah, well, Commodore O'Connor, it was a pleasure to finally meet ye. Now, I think it's time for you to take your leave."

"I assume that was yer clever li'l way o' sayin' ye're goin' to kill me," Cecily retorted. "Go ahead, Mr. Mercer, and blow me brains out. I'm takin' yer li'l errand boy with me."

"Am I supposed to give two cents about this lad's life? Shame on you, Commodore. Thinking you could threaten me with something so trivial."

"I certainly hope you don't find your own life quite so trivial," a new voice announced, accompanied by the cock of a third pistol. "Let me assure you, Mr. Mercer, if you pull that trigger, I will pull mine."

Cecily allowed herself a short glance in the direction of the new voice. It was, of course, James Norrington. Torn between relief, annoyance, and embarrassment, Cecily spoke, "Bout time yer arse showed up, Norrington. Where the hell have ye been?"

"Your welcome, Commodore O'Connor," was Norrington's rather sarcastic reply.

"Ah, yes, our little runaway commodore, Mr. James Norrington," Mercer said greasily. "So sad to find you in such company."

"Drop the gun," Norrington ordered. "Or I will kill you."

Suddenly, Cecily found herself wrapped in Mercer's tight embrace, the barrel of his pistol buried in her neck. Norrington took a step forward, but Mercer only forced the gun harder against her skin. Cecily wanted to throttle Norrington. He should have just shot Mercer before the slippery rodent of a man could act. Now, she was being used as a human shield. "Any other requests, Mr. Norrington?" Mercer asked ironically. "Or should I just kill your superior now?"

Cecily glanced out of the corner of her eye at the soldier. He was still standing there, stock still and looking terrified. The hell _she_ was just going to stand there like a moron. Cecily smashed her elbow into Mercer's gut, causing him to crumple and loosen his hold on her. His pistol went off just inches from her neck as she hit the sand. Mercer, now left uncovered, grabbed her by the arm in an attempt to recover his shield, but Norrington was too fast. He pulled the trigger of his own pistol, and buried a bullet right between Mercer's eyes.

"Are you all right?" Norrington demanded, turning to Cecily.

"The lad!" Cecily shouted in warning, reaching for her own gun. Norrington turned to see the soldier running like the wind down the beach. Then there was a loud bang, and the soldier dropped dead in the sand.

Norrington turned to Cecily, who was gripping her still-smoking pistol. "Ye can't let any o' them get away," she said simply, sure of his disapproval. "We couldn't afford to let the lad go."

"I know," Norrington agreed. He knelt beside her in the sand. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Cecily waved him off. "Well, I suppose that takes care o' that."

"I suppose."

"We should bury them," she went on. "Don't want their bodies found."

"All right," Norrington agreed. "I'll get one of the men to grab some shovels."

He stood and took a few steps before stopping and looking back at her. Cecily was still sitting in the sand. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Go get the damn shovels."

Norrington continued on his way. Cecily rubbed her neck where Mercer had placed his pistol. It was slightly sore, but nothing she couldn't handle. The shot going off next to her face was something else, however. She wasn't about to admit it, but she was mildly shook up. It was strange, being faced with one's own mortality.

She glanced over at Mercer, who was lying dead in the sand, blood and brains spilling out the hole in his forehead. Cecily made a face and looked at the soldier. She couldn't see the lad very well from where she was sitting, but she knew that his blood and brains were leaking out the same as Mercer's, only out the back of his head, where her bullet had made its home. It had to be done. The lad had to be killed, no matter how young, scared, and green he was.

Cecily swallowed her guilt, and got to her feet, brushing the sand from her pants. This was precisely why she should never talk to the man at the wrong end of the gun, she decided. She should always just shoot right off the bat.

* * *

Although she had assisted the diggers at the beginning, Cecily soon left the burying of the two spies to Norrington's men and made her way back to the _Dauntless_. On board the ship, she headed below deck to her quarters, intent on cooling off for awhile. She was unsure what her next course of action should be. They had gotten rid of the spies before they could carry tales to Beckett, but eventually he was going to notice that Mercer was missing. There would be more spies after this, and possibly even an attack. They had lost the element of surprise, and even worse, Cecily was unsure when to expect the arrival of her reinforcements.

"Can we discuss what happened out on the beach?"

Cecily whirled around in surprise. Norrington was standing in the doorway. "What is it ye want to discuss?" she asked, sounding rather irritated.

Norrington ignored her irritation. "I just want to hear what you plan to do about our little problem. I'm sure you know that this isn't the end. We can expect more spies, and more problems from Beckett's end of the island. I just think…."

"What do ye think?" Cecily snapped. "What? Please tell me, James, I'm simply dyin' to know. Seein' as I'm incapable o' deducin' the simplest o' things. Since I wouldn't have already figured out everythin' ye just said on me own. So, please darling…."

"Cecily, I don't want to hear your self-righteous speech right now," Norrington interrupted her. "I'm sorry I offended you. I just thought you'd want to discuss our next course of action."

"And ye think I'd want to discuss it with ye, and ye only?" Cecily returned. "Where's Sao Feng? Isn't he part o' this too? Call him in, and we'll have a meeting, how's that?"

"Sao Feng is the one who got us into this mess," Norrington retorted. "And I know you don't trust him."

"But I trust ye," Cecily said ironically.

"I like to think so," Norrington replied.

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Fine, then," she said, taking a seat on the edge of her bunk. "Tell me yer ideas, Norrington. What is it _ye_ think we should do?"

Norrington chose to pretend her tone wasn't condescending and began to speak. "Further sabotage may prevent Beckett from using his ships against ours," he announced. "But we might still be in danger of an infantry attack."

"So, ye want to keep attackin' the ships," Cecily said, demonstrating an exaggerated and mocking show of interest. "And how do ye propose to stop an infantry attack?"

"Damn it, Cecily, don't you dare treat me like a child in grown up's clothing," he snapped, bending over into her face. "I have every bit as much battle experience as you do, and I might have something to contribute if you'd listen. You do yourself and your men a disservice by persisting in this foolish game that we always wind up playing."

"What game would that be?" Cecily asked frostily.

"The struggle for control," Norrington replied. "One of us always has to come up on top. We can never treat one another like equals. It's all belittling and smirking and shouting. Our men depend on us to act responsibly, and here we are, fighting like dogs."

"Don't ye dare take that tone with me, Norrington," Cecily snarled, getting angrily to her feet. "I ain't about to take it. The last thing I need to hear is one o' me subordinates scoldin' me. Ye need to remember yer place."

"Well perhaps my place would be easier to remember if you'd stop changing it on me!" Norrington retorted.

"What the bloody hell are ye talkin' about?" Cecily cried. "Yer place hasn't been changin' at all! I'm still in charge, and yer still beneath me!"

"I believe it was only a few days ago that _you_ were beneath me," Norrington scoffed.

Cecily smacked him in the face, fury in her eyes. "How dare ye!" she shouted. "As if that makes me any less yer superior! As if that makes me any less yer commodore! As if that makes ye any more than ye were before! What do ye take me fer, Norrington? I may be loose, but I ain't yer run o' the mill whore! Ye didn't take me: _I_ took _ye_. A moan and a cry o' yer name don't make ye any more important than anyone else. All it makes ye is an indulgence in a weak moment!"

James stared at her. This had gone too far. He had poked the bear. Cecily may not have been treating him fairly, but for the past few days he had done nothing but antagonize her. It was in Cecily's nature to react the way she had. To make matters worse, he had then lost his temper and made a stupid comment about their tryst the other afternoon, further provoking her anger. He knew he had to fix this before it got worse, but her last few comments had stung him. It wasn't that he expected Cecily to think better of him than any of the other men she'd slept with, but he hadn't thought of what had passed between them as completely meaningless either. There was a middle ground, and he had been sure they had reached it.

In fact, he was still sure. He knew better than to take her harsh words as anything more than retaliation for the way he had just hurt her. Cecily would never admit that his comment had hurt her, but he knew it had.

Yet something in his character wouldn't let him completely surrender. "You're right," he replied softly. "I shouldn't have said that. I know you're still in charge. But you can't treat me like I'm a worthless crewman either. I deserve to have my opinions heard. You may have the final say, but both I _and_ the other captains in this fleet have to be allowed in on the decision-making process. We've been over this before, Cecily. Your secretiveness and your inability to share the power don't help our mission: they hinder it."

Cecily glowered at him, and James knew she was about to yell at him some more. He continued with his speech before she had the chance to interrupt. "And, yes," he went on, this time sounding rather angry. "Maybe I'm not important to you. But the fact of the matter is that this 'indulgence' saved your life this afternoon. And you didn't even thank me for it."

He turned his back on her and made to leave the room. "James," she called after him.

Norrington turned around. "Ye're right," she said, with a shrug. "Ye did save me life. Thank ye."

"Is that all you have to say?" he asked.

Cecily pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't push it," she retorted.

Norrington stood there for a moment longer, staring at her. Cecily managed to stare back only for a little while before she got uncomfortable. "Well?" she asked. "What? Do ye want something?"

"Yes," he said. "I do want something."

Cecily waited only a moment before asking, "Aye? And what the hell would that be? Ye just goin' to stand there 'til I guess?"

"When that shot went off, I…" Norrington trailed off. Cecily frowned. A deep breath, and then Norrington continued, "I thought you were… dead."

Cecily stared at him. "Oh."

"I didn't like that feeling," he said.

"Well, I didn't particularly like the feeling I got when that shot went off either," Cecily returned. "Good to know we're on the same page."

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Damn it, Cecily, don't act so stupid. I know you know what I meant."

Cecily glared at him. "Did ye just call me stupid?"

He sighed heavily, and then approached her. "No. I said you were acting stupid. There's a difference, even if it is slight."

Cecily took a step back from him and her calves hit the bunk behind her. "Listen, Norrington, I don't know what ye think…."

James grabbed her by the arms and yanked her against him, planting a heavy kiss on her mouth. Cecily tensed momentarily, before relaxing in his grip and kissing him back. He leaned into her, causing her to lose her balance and land on the bed. James fell with her, climbing on top of her, his hands traveling up her arms to her neck, and finally resting tangled in her hair. Cecily gripped his waist inside his coat, and Norrington's lips moved down from her lips to her neck. She gasped slightly in his ear. Norrington's mouth made it's way to her chest, and Cecily's hands moved up his back, traveling in circles. His hands left her hair and made their way slowly to her waist. Lifting his mouth momentarily from her collar bone, he lifted her shirt up over her head and tossed it across the room. His mouth came back down on her neck and traveled over her breasts. Cecily knocked his wig and hat to the floor, and pulled his hair from it's ponytail, burying her hands in his dark brown strands. Norrington's lips continued their trek around her chest, and Cecily moaned quietly. Then, suddenly, she gasped.

"James," she murmured. "The door."

He looked up at the door, which was standing wide open. Norrington left the bed to push the door shut and bolted it. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and returned to the bunk where Cecily was waiting for him. Her arms wrapped around him, and his lips found hers again. Cecily's hands traveled up and down his back, Norrington's lips made their way down her neck a second time, and soon both of them were pulling off the rest of their clothes. It wasn't long before the action of a few afternoons ago was being repeated, and the two of them had completely forgotten their argument, their ever looming enemy, and the increase in complications they were sure to wake up to the next morning.

* * *


	22. Honor

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 24: Honor

The _Sea Bird_ had finally reached its destination, and now dropped anchor in the harbor alongside a rather run-down old ship whose sails were full of noticeable patches. Captain Ronan Liberte shook his head at what he saw. Captain Jim Sauder sure had let things go to pot.

The heavyset man strode purposefully down his gangplank, and marched directly next door to the _Faithful_, whose name ironically was the last thing she looked. He strode up the _Faithful_'s gangplank, where he was immediately stopped by one of the sailors.

"Who goes?" the man demanded in a heavy Spanish accent.

Ronan raised an eyebrow and crossed his big arms in front of his even bigger chest, looking threateningly down at the sailor. Clearly, the man was new to Jim's forces. Ronan and Jim had become so familiar with one another that most of the men on Jim's ship recognized Ronan by sight, and vice versa. "Who are you?" Ronan asked, scoffing.

The man narrowed his eyes. Ronan was intimidating, but Jim's new sailor seemed to have some mettle of his own. Ronan supposed that was why Jim had hired the rather squirrely looking young man. "I don't see that that's any of you business," the new sailor returned. "Who are you and what are you doing on this ship?"

"Oh, come off it, Antonio," a man with a street British accent announced, coming up behind the Spaniard. "This ain't no enemy. What brings ye to the _Faithful_ on this fine day, Cap'n Liberte?"

Ronan turned to find Jim's first mate grinning up at him. "Hello, Robert," he replied, his stern expression fading into a genial smile. "I came looking for Jim. Where'd he get off to?"

"Oh, he's down in the pub," Robert replied. "Like always. Ye can wait for him in his office, if ye'd like."

"No, that's all right, Robert," Ronan said. "I'll just meet him down at the pub. Which one's he in?"

Robert gave him the name of the bar, and Ronan headed off into town to look for his old friend.

Jim Sauder wasn't a typical pirate, Ronan reflected as he hiked away from the docks. In fact, most pirates would never stoop so low as to consider Jim a pirate of any sort. Jim was a smuggler, and that was just about his only calling. He smuggled nearly anything he could get his hands on: drugs, jewels, livestock, rum – you name it, he smuggled it. Most of what he smuggled was stolen, too, and that was why Ronan allowed the smuggler to be called a pirate. He would take things off other captains in different parts of the world and carry them back to the Caribbean where he made a killing selling off the overpriced and most often illegal contraband. When he wasn't stealing and smuggling, Jim Sauder could be found in port, drinking at the local pub, neglecting his ship, and indulging in some of his own goods, when his goods were intoxicating substances. Ronan wasn't going to lie: the man was a horrible captain. He let his crew do whatever they damn well pleased, ignored his ship to the point of it becoming ramshackle, and had entered into many a battle he could not hope to win. The man was frighteningly irresponsible. But Ronan had a soft spot for his old friend, and so did Cecily – otherwise, she would never have allowed this. No matter what his shortcomings were, Jim believed in honor, and it was this honor he held so dear that was going to lead Jim Sauder into battle alongside the rest of Commodore O'Connor's fleet.

Ronan entered the pub that Jim's first mate had named, and quickly surveyed the room for Jim's friendly face. He soon saw it in the back, buried behind a smile and a bottle of rum.

With some trepidation, Ronan crossed the pub and approached Jim's table. He didn't particularly want to talk business when the other half of the conversation was stone drunk, but he also didn't want to wait. If he was lucky, maybe Jim would still be sober.

"Sauder," he said seriously, glowering down at the smiling man, his arms crossed in a threatening manner.

Jim was a tall, lanky man with short dark hair and big brown eyes. He was covered in freckles, and he always wore a goofy grin on his face, like a big friendly dog. He looked up from his liquor and his smile widened in recognition at the sight of Ronan's stern face. "Liberte!" he cried happily in a heavy street accent. "Well, I say, this is a surprise! What can I do ye fer today?"

He sounded sober. Ronan decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He let his stern expression fade, and smiled back at his old friend. His arms uncrossed, and he sat down at the table. "I have an offer for you," Ronan announced.

Jim's eyebrow went up. "An offer, eh? What sort of offer?"

"The kind that could save your life," Ronan replied. "Or end it."

"That sounds vaguely ominous there," Jim said skeptically, giving Ronan the once over. "Exactly what are ye talkin' about, Liberte?"

"What I am talking about," Ronan said, looking very seriously into the other man's face. "Happens to be about honor."

Jim's interest was peaked, but he wasn't hooked yet. "Whose honor?" he asked.

"Yours," Ronan replied. "Mine. The honor of all our kind. The honor of the sea itself."

"Well, this must be a real big deal," Jim returned. "Go on with it, man, don't give me riddles."

"There's a man in these waters – a dangerous man – who will stop at nothing until we are all exterminated: pirates, prostitutes, smugglers; you name the criminal, this man will hang them," Ronan began. "He has taken over the sea with the aid of Davy Jones' heart. And for months now, he has sailed these waters, possessing what no man has the right to, murdering our countrymen and violating our home. I want you to help stop him."

Jim was frowning at Ronan. "Liberte, don't get me wrong. I respect your weird ass belief system, but I don't know if I entirely buy into it. You really expect me to believe that first off, Davy Jones exists, and second off, that the legend behind his heart is true to boot?"

"That is fair," Ronan returned. "It is hard to believe. But I have seen the devil himself, and I have heard him bargaining for his most prized possession. And what's more, there are others like myself who have taken the leap and chosen to believe what I am telling you. They have joined together to stop this man, this Lord Cutler Beckett, and return the natural order to the sea. If none of that convinces you, though, then this surely will: The pirate behind this movement, the one that has gathered us all together, who extends you the olive branch and commands our forces, happens to be an old mutual friend of ours – Cecily O'Connor."

Jim blinked at Ronan. "Cecily?" he asked. "She's behind this rebellion thing ye're goin' on about?"

"Yes, she is."

"Well, hell, I'm sold," Jim exclaimed. "I ain't never met anyone who could be called a bigger skeptic than Cecily. If she's on board, then I ain't got no choice but to believe it's true."

"So, you will help?"

Jim paused, considering. Ronan watched him with ever increasing anticipation. "I suppose I ain't got a choice," he said finally. "This is my home, and I ain't goin' to stand by and watch some Navy prig take it away from me."

"That is what I wanted to hear," Ronan said with a smile. "It is good to have you on board, Jim."

* * *

It was morning in Dominica, and James Norrington was slowly waking up to the sunlight streaming into the room he'd spent the night in. It wasn't his quarters – it was Cecily's quarters, and he was lying in her bunk beside her. A glance down at her confirmed that she was still sound asleep, her head on his chest. James sighed. In the moment last night, nothing had seemed to matter except sleeping with Cecily one more time, but now he began to repent. He knew that when she awoke, the atmosphere would become tense and awkward. They would stop speaking, or they would fight; it didn't matter how, but he was sure that one way or another he was going to pay dearly for what had occurred between them the night before.

He began to wish that things between them could be simpler. When they'd started out on this voyage, she'd been a rather irritating past mistake; a reminder of an unpleasant period in his life. She'd been nothing more than a one night stand, and he had been annoyed with her cheeky comments, her quick temper, and her overbearing authority. But then something had changed. He wasn't sure at what point during their journey that he had begun to notice it, but there was a certain charm to the way she teased him, a strange capacity to blow up in anger and still be endearing, and her authority became less annoying, and more admirable. It was strange, to think this way about her. It wasn't that he loved her, because he was pretty sure he didn't, and he knew that she most certainly did not love him, but there was a comfort in the way her head felt on his chest that James didn't quite understand. What was happening between them, he didn't know, but a part of him had begun to enjoy it.

As James lay there, staring up at the ceiling and thinking these thoughts, Cecily began to stir. She yawned, blinked, and looked up at him. James looked down at her. Rather awkwardly, Cecily removed herself from his arms and wrapped the sheets tighter around her chest. James sighed inwardly. It had begun.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

She nodded at him. "Morning," she said shortly.

Just as James had predicted, everything had gotten tense between them. He sat up in bed and reached for his pants. "We should probably get up," he murmured, sliding them on.

She nodded again. "Aye, I suppose so."

James tossed her clothes at her and stood up, dressed only in his pants. He gathered the rest of his clothes and began to dress. He heard Cecily shuffling around on the mattress, getting dressed herself.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Commodore O'Connor?"

It was Herman. James glanced over at Cecily. "Aye?" she called. "What do ye want?"

"Sao Feng is in the galley, and he wants to speak you. Also, we can't find Commodore Norrington."

Cecily sighed. "Fine, I'll be out momentarily. I'll track down James too."

"All right!" Herman's footsteps faded away.

Cecily glanced over at James. He stared back at her. Then the two of them finished dressing and walked out of the room in silence, making their way to the galley.

Sao Feng was seated at one of the long tables, waiting impatiently for them. When they entered, he looked surprised to see Norrington joining Cecily, and rather displeased. "Commodore O'Connor," he said. "I wish to speak to you about the spies found on our beach yesterday afternoon."

"Oh, do ye?" Cecily asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what do ye wish to say? Because unless it's an apology fer causin' said spies to be sent, I'm not so sure I want to hear it."

Sao Feng's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I want to know what you plan to do about it."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "What do I plan to do about it?" she repeated. "Well, first I had planned to kill them. And I did, with a little help from Norrington o'er here. And then I had planned to bury them, which also went off without a hitch. And then I had planned to punish the person responsible for givin' away our position, because _that's_ the only reason two spies were sent to our beach yesterday! How do ye take it, Sao Feng? Twenty lashes or somethin' a bit more creative?"

Sao Feng stood and approached the angry pirate woman with malice in his eyes. "You should be more careful about the way you choose to speak with me."

"Or what?" Cecily snapped. "The last I checked, I was in charge here, Sao Feng. And ye were nothing more than an insubordinate underling. Perhaps _ye_ should be more careful how ye speak to _me_."

Sao Feng stared down at her gravely. "If you do not have a course of action to pursue, then perhaps you no longer are fit to be in charge."

Cecily let out a short bark of laughter. "And who shall take me place, eh? Ye? Ye can't even follow explicit orders! What makes ye think ye can give them?"

"I demand to know what you plan to do about this!"

Cecily, despite being so short, drew herself up and shouted at the man who was so much taller than her, "Don't ye dare make demands o' me! Ye sit down, and ye shut up, ye worthless, pathetic, mangy dog!"

Sao Feng backhanded her across the face. Cecily's head snapped to the side. For a very brief moment, she stood there, shocked. James lunged forward, his hand on his sword. Cecily, however, turned back on Sao Feng and slugged him in the jaw.

Sao Feng's head snapped to the side as well. He reached up, shocked, and gingerly felt his chin. Then he narrowed his eyes down at the pirate commodore. She glowered at him. "I should cut off yer hand fer that," Cecily announced.

Sao Feng continued to glare at her silently. "Have a seat," she ordered.

Sao Feng slowly sat down at the table, still glowering at her. "Now, listen up," she snapped. "If ye don't start respectin' me, I'm goin' to have to kill ye."

He opened his mouth to say something, but Cecily cut him off. "If ye want to know where yer bloody goddess is hidin' out," she went on. "This is most certainly not the way to go about it. Ye keep this up, and I'll consider yer insubordination as goin' back on yer word. And if ye go back on yer word, well – I see no reason to uphold mine."

Sao Feng stood up again and lowered his face into hers. "Perhaps I become unconvinced that you can give me what I want," he whispered. "Or perhaps I begin to think I can get it without your help."

Cecily raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" she asked softly. "Well then, feel free to leave."

Sao Feng smirked. "Tell me, please, Commodore," he murmured, affecting obedience. "What do you plan to do about possible new spies?"

Cecily continued to stare at him with her one eyebrow raised. "I'm goin' to keep on doin' what I've been doing," she replied evenly, daring him to challenge her. "And if I have to kill more spies, then I have to kill more spies."

Sao Feng nodded. He had a weird look on his face that was near impossible to read. "I suppose that will have to do for now," he murmured. Then he turned away from her, his long coat swishing behind him, and headed back up on deck.

Cecily turned to look at Norrington. James stared at her. "Bloody crazy, that one," Cecily murmured, with a cheeky grin, as though the scene between her and Sao Feng had been nothing at all.

James rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look. "He's more than crazy," was all he said.

Cecily shrugged. James touched her cheek. "It's red," he announced.

Cecily brushed his hand away. "Don't be a woman," she replied.

He rolled his eyes again. "You're always so incredibly rude."

She smiled cheekily again. "Come on, James," she murmured, walking up the steps to the deck. "Get yer lazy arse in gear, and let's go."

* * *


	23. Reunited

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 25: Reunited

Captain Lawrence Matthews stepped out on the deck of the _Gallant_, heeding the call of one of his crew. Six ships were approaching the harbor in the distance. Matthews walked out to the end of the deck and trained his spyglass on the horizon. He did not know three of the ships, but he knew them to be allies because they were fast sailing towards them in the company of the _Black Pearl_, the _Sea Bird_, and the _Fate's Plaything_.

"They've come back now, have they?"

Matthews turned to the speaker. Captain Tanner Hartford had made his way on board Matthews' ship. Matthews allowed himself a small smile. He and Hartford, although by no means the best of friends, had reached an understanding in the time since Commodore O'Connor had left them to guide the remainder of the fleet together. Hartford had healed quickly, and now had no trouble getting around. According to Piper, his bandages would soon be removed. Matthews had been glad for his company. Although he suspected that Hartford's attempts at camaraderie with him had something to do with the words Hartford and Cecily had exchanged before she'd left with Norrington, Hartford had still proved a valuable asset. Easton had been little more than a thorn in Matthews' side since the _Dauntless_ had pulled out, and without the constant support of both Hartford and Marjorie, the _Sunrise_'s acting captain, Matthews doubted that he could have handled the duty Cecily had trusted him with.

"Yes, they have," Matthews returned. "And it's about time. I imagine Commodore O'Connor is getting rather impatient."

"Probably," Hartford agreed. "Can't really blame her, though, can we? Haven't had word in all the time she's been gone. No tellin' what's happened over in Dominica. Might have needed back up quite some time ago."

Matthews nodded. "I've been worried about that myself," he admitted.

"Not sayin' I haven't been," Hartford replied. "But I'm more worried about gettin' this fleet out to Dominica. Sparrow, Barboussa, and Worchester are back, and I think we both know they're troublemakers."

A long sigh escaped Matthews' lungs. "You're absolutely right," he said. "You know, I'm beginning to understand exactly how difficult Commodore O'Conner's lot was in all this."

Hartford laughed. "Aye," he agreed. "But I'm not sure ye handled her lot quite the same way."

Matthews smiled. "I better give the orders. After we meet with the new arrivals, I want to pull out and sail for Dominica."

Hartford nodded. "I'll head back to the _Beauty _and start making preparations."

Matthews gave Hartford a parting salute and watched as the man walked rather stiffly down the gangplank. It was true that his injuries were almost healed, but he wasn't completely back to health. Matthews hoped that this wouldn't hurt their chances in battle.

However, there wasn't time for conjecture. Matthews immediately tracked down his first mate and sent him to round up the rest of his crew. They would make preparations to sail as soon as possible.

"Captain Hartford mentioned ye might want to see me?"

Matthews turned in surprise at the voice, having just sent his first mate to carry out his orders. "Oh, yes, Captain Easton," Matthews said. "I did want to give you warning."

"About?" Easton asked rather sourly.

Matthews sighed inwardly, but tried not to let his aggravation show on his face. Easton looked rather petulant, like a small child whose mother had refused to buy him a sweet. The pirate captain would not make eye contact with Matthews, and affected an air which suggested that having to be in the Navy captain's presence was actually physically painful. "I just wanted to tell you," Matthews announced, trying to sound pleasant. "It appears that the _Pearl_, the _Sea Bird_, and the _Plaything_ are returning to the harbor. I want to be ready to sail as soon as possible, so I recommend you begin preparations now."

"Ye recommend?" Easton asked rather snidely. "Not order?"

Matthews felt his patience slipping, but held dearly to his self control. "I strongly suggest you get a head start," he said through gritted teeth and a pained smile.

"But ye don't order," Easton concluded. "Bloody hell, why Cecily left ye in charge I'll never figure out. Ye're not even capable of issuin' an order."

These little digs had been a daily occurrence ever since Commodore O'Connor's departure and so Matthews was used to them. However, he had made up his mind once and for all that he would not tolerate them.

"I will thank you not to speak to me like that," Matthews said in a low tone. Easton scoffed. Matthews pushed on with, "If you truly are less than an adult, and therefore incapable of following my wishes without direct orders and threats, then fine. I will gladly order you. Return to your ship at once and prepare to sail – unless you desire swift and painful punishment for your insubordination."

Easton glowered darkly at him. "I'll take yer orders fer now," he snarled. "But Cecily's the only one I intend to listen to from here on out, and ye better believe I'll have somethin' to say to her about who she chose to leave in charge of her business."

With this, Easton spun on his heel and stalked down the gangplank of Matthews' ship. The young Navy officer sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. He had had just about enough of that man.

The three returning ships were nearly in harbor now. Matthews was immensely relieved. He would be plenty happy to finally sail to Dominica and hand the reigns back over to Cecily. Pirate commodore was a thankless task.

* * *

The six ships had docked by now and were replenishing their supplies. Matthews had called together the six newly arrived captains, along with Easton, Hartford, and Marjorie, and all of them were now in the galley of the _Sunrise_, having their first meeting in quite some time.

Matthews had only just introduced himself to the new recruits when one of them began picking a fight. The first thing anyone said was, "Who the hell are ye? And where is this Cecily O'Connor person? I was told I was goin' to be takin' me orders from her."

The speaker was a woman, older than Miss Swann, but younger than Commodore O'Connor. She looked to be a freed or escaped slave, and she had all the grace and femininity of an aging sailor man. Matthews supposed she was rather pretty, but she was also very masculine. Even Cecily, as strange as she acted, had appeared much more womanly than this captain.

"And you are?" Matthews asked, but not with disdain. He actually did his best to sound respectful.

"Captain Anamaria Freeman," the woman replied. "And I'm only here on this suicidal venture because dimwit over there," at this, she jerked her thumb at Jack, "Told me that the pirate spearheading this thing was a woman named Cecily O'Connor. And ye, me friend, are certainly no woman – in fact, I doubt yer even a pirate. Someone better tell me what the hell is goin' on, or I'm leaving."

"His name is Captain Matthews," Marjorie interjected. "Commodore O'Connor left him in charge here while she attended to some other business."

"And ye are?" Anamaria asked her. Unlike Matthews, she did not bother to sound tactful.

"Me name's Marjorie Oakridge," Marjorie returned, without missing a beat. "I'm Commodore O'Connor's first mate on her ship, the _Bloody Sunrise_."

Anamaria gave Marjorie a searching look. "All right," she said finally, and rather reluctantly. "I'll give ye the benefit of the doubt. Where is the good commodore, anyway?"

"She's on Dominica, with two other captains from our fleet," Matthews announced, stepping back into his role as authority figure. "They're spying on the convoy we're planning to attack. Now, if I could just get all your names… I know you're Captain Freeman, but these other two…?"

"My friend, Constantine Vontoya," Skip announced.

"And mine, Jim Sauder," Ronan spoke up.

Jim and Constantine gave silent nods to the rest of the room. "All right," Matthews said. "Well, if you are all quite ready then, I will ask you all to prepare your ships to sail by tomorrow morning. The _Dauntless_ and the _Empress_ have too long been in Dominica without any allies. I don't want to make them wait for reinforcements any longer than necessary."

A few more words were exchanged, none of them too argumentative, fortunately, and finally their course of action was agreed upon. Matthews adjourned the meeting, and all the other captains left in order to finish preparations to sail.

He sighed heavily as everyone exited the galley. Then he glanced up and exchanged a look with Marjorie. She gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "Ready to give up?" she asked.

"I will be so happy to see Cecily," Matthews returned. "That I may just kiss her."

Marjorie laughed. "I doubt she'll object."

* * *

Cecily stood on deck of the _Dauntless_, frowning at the soldier before her. "Are ye sure?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes, Commodore. The ships in the harbor are nearly fully repaired now. We suspect they'll pull out within the next two days."

Inside, Cecily swore. "All right, lad, thank ye," she said aloud. "Go on back to yer post."

"Aye, Commodore," the soldier said with a salute, before heading back to his waiting longboat.

Cecily sighed heavily. Two days, at the most, were all she had to wait, and there was no sign of her goddamn fleet. She could scream.

"Commodore!" she heard another soldier say urgently. She turned to see him running towards her. "Commodore, there's something you may want to take a look at."

Cecily gave another heavy sigh. "What now?" she asked irritably.

The soldier led her to the back of the ship, where he pointed out towards the horizon. Squinting against the sunlight, Cecily saw several ships sailing there way. Feeling hopeful, she pulled out her spyglass, opened it with a shake, and then trained it on the approaching ships. Sure enough, led by Matthews' _Gallant_, all seven of her ships were sailing towards them, along with three brand new ones. Matthews' timing was absolutely perfect.

"Go round up Norrington and Sao Feng. Tell them to see me," she ordered the soldier.

"Aye Commodore," the soldier said, running off.

Cecily couldn't help the slight grin that crossed her face. Finally, things were looking up.

* * *

The _Bloody Sunrise_ had anchored close by the _Dauntless_, and boarding planks were immediately set up. Marjorie's face lit up to see her captain cross the wooden plank from the _Dauntless_ and set foot on the _Sunrise_'s deck. Cecily looked like a seagull in a fish market. Marjorie knew how badly she must have missed her ship.

"Cap'n," Marjorie grinned, approaching her. Cecily smiled wide for her first mate.

"Well, she looks in great condition," Cecily announced. "You did a fine job fixin' her up. Everyone's healed nicely now, I presume?"

"Everyone's fine," Marjorie replied. "How's the sabotage going?"

Cecily sighed. "Well," she announced. "Their ships are nearly repaired now, and we expect them to set sail soon. So it's a good thing ye all showed up when ye did."

Marjorie nodded. "Well, ye managed to hold 'em off fer awhile at least."

"Aye, but no thanks to me new recruit," Cecily growled. "Sao Feng blew our cover completely, and we've been dealin' with spies e'er since."

"What did the bastard do?"

"Blew up a mast on one o' the Navy ships," Cecily replied. "Deliberately disobeyed me orders. He ain't been nothin' but a problem."

"Did ye have any problems with Norrington?"

Cecily shrugged. "Nothin' as bad as Sao Feng."

"Commodore O'Connor," a voice behind her announced.

Cecily turned on the speaker. It was Captain Matthews, looking a little too happy to see her. "Well hello there, Larry," she grinned. "How'd ye like holdin' down the fort?"

"It wasn't quite to my taste, I'm afraid," Matthews replied. "I assume everything's gone all right here?"

"We've had our problems," Cecily returned. "Mostly due to Sao Feng. But things are lookin' up now. Anyone give ye any problems?"

Matthews hesitated, looking reluctant to discuss whatever was bothering him. Marjorie, however, spoke up immediately. "Easton," she spat. "He was a thorn in the side fer the entire time ye were gone. Doesn't like to listen, that one. Didn't show Matthews anywhere near the respect he deserved. Somethin' needs to be done about him."

Cecily nodded gravely. "I was concerned that might be the case."

There was a bit of a bustle as the other captains began boarding the _Sunrise_ as well. Cecily watched this with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose I ought to be callin' a meeting, then, eh?"

"Looks like," Marjorie replied with a trace of amusement in her voice.

"All right then," Cecily said. "Everyone in the galley."

* * *

Cecily stood at the head of one of her long galley tables, staring at the loud, squabbling congregation before her. Beside her sat Marjorie, involved in a similar activity. Sao Feng was arguing with Hector Barboussa, who was arguing with both the pirate lord, and his own co-captain, Jack Sparrow. Sparrow's attention was divided between disagreeing with everything Barboussa said, and attempting to soothe the angry woman beside him. She wasn't having it, however, and continued yelling at him.

Across the table, Easton was picking a fight with both Matthews and Norrington, the latter of which looked a bit confused as to why the pirate captain was verbally assaulting him. Skip was also arguing with Easton, and anyone else who dared open his or her mouth within his earshot. Vontoya was following his example. Jim had somehow wound up arguing with Vontoya, although Cecily doubted either man truly understood what they were fighting about. Ronan was attempting to reason with many of the arguing pirates, but everyone was ignoring him. And Tanner wasn't saying a word, merely sitting back and watching the chaos with an amused smile on his face.

It was good to have everyone back together again, Cecily thought with great sarcasm. "SILENCE!" she thundered.

To her great surprise, not only did her shout attract everyone's attention, but everyone subsequently followed her order.

"Thank ye," she said with an incredibly insincere smile. "Now, I assume from the way ye're all arguin' like fishwives in the marketplace, that perhaps a few o' ye have some problems ye'd like to discuss with me. I will be more than happy to address these issues, as long as they're voiced in a timely and respectable fashion. So I will please ask ye all to raise yer hands before ye open yer mouths."

"Are ye Cecily O'Connor?" the pirate woman seated beside Sparrow demanded.

"Did ye raise yer hand?" Cecily snapped.

The woman was taken slightly aback, but she grudgingly raised her hand as requested, although Cecily caught an eye-roll as she did so. "Aye?" Cecily asked, gesturing to the woman. "And ye are…?"

"Captain Anamaria Freeman," the woman replied. "Sparrow asked me to join this fleet. And I just want to know if ye're Cecily O'Connor or not."

"Well, let me assure ye, darling," Cecily returned. "Cecily O'Connor's me name. Any other questions before I move on to the next person?"

"Aye, as a matter of fact, I do have more questions," Captain Freeman retorted. "Ye'll have to pardon me confusion, but ye sent _this_ one," she jerked her head at Sparrow in a rather unimpressed manner. "To recruit me. And let's face it, he's just a big load o' useless, ain't he?"

Jack huffed, clearly offended. Cecily allowed herself a small smile. "I suppose I can grant ye that," she replied, sounding a tad more friendly than before.

Jack huffed once more. Both Cecily and Anamaria ignored him. "Just to be clear, since the bloody ponce did his very best to leave the question open-ended, _ye_ are the commodore on this venture, and I will take me orders from _ye_?"

"Ye got it, darling," Cecily returned.

"And ye were here in Dominica instead o' waiting with the rest o' yer fleet in order to sabotage Beckett's fleet until yer reinforcements could arrive?"

"Aye."

"And ye plan to attack his fleet and kill him, consequently returning order to the Caribbean?"

"Right again."

Anamaria smiled. "I just want to say that I'm thrilled to be workin' fer ye, Commodore O'Connor. If ye'd been a man, I'd be runnin' in the other direction."

Cecily smiled back. "Good to know, darling," she said. "Glad to have ye. Bit too masculine 'round here lately." She turned to the other pirates present. "Anyone else?"

"I demand to know why we're listening to this woman," Vontoya exclaimed, not addressing Cecily. She rolled her eyes at the slight slur she detected in his words. The man was drunk. "We outnumber her greatly. Let's just…"

"Let's just what?" Cecily snapped. "Damn it, Skip, if this stupid bloody drunk ye _insist_ on bein' seen with starts with this shite, I swear it'll be yer head on a pike!"

"Well, that's a tad unfair!" Skip protested. "I can't control _everything _that comes out of his stupid mouth! He may be an idiot, but he's not _my_ bloody man-child!"

"I will not be spoken to like this!" Constantine interjected warmly.

"Ain't no one speakin' to ye, Vontoya, we're speakin' about ye," Skip retorted nastily.

"I will not be spoken about like this!" he returned angrily, not skipping a beat. "O'Connor, ye are a disgrace to the name of pirate!"

Cecily rolled her eyes in a way that suggested she'd heard all this before. "Aye. Thank ye, Constantine. Now, if we can get back to more important matters…."

"I will not be ignored!" Vontoya interrupted. "I demand your attention! All of you! Do you realize what you have allowed yourselves to become? Taking orders from a woman? And not just _any _woman, but _her_? She's an old slut who…."

_Thwap_! A dirty plate left behind on the table suddenly went from stationary, to airborne, to making hard, crushing impact with Constantine's head. The force of the throw nearly knocked the pirate from his chair. Beside him, Skip rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

"One more disrespectful word comes out o' yer mouth, Vontoya, and ye'll be takin' a one way trip off the plank, ye hear me?" Cecily snarled. She had been the launcher of the culinary missile.

Vontoya glowered, but said nothing, nursing his sore forehead. Cecily pointed a stern finger Skip's way. "And you," she snarled. "Would ye bloody watch his rum intake? I warned ye when ye said ye were goin' to be bring him, didn't I?"

"Aye, Commodore," Skip replied, not even sounding surly. He sounded rather annoyed, albeit, but not at Cecily. "He's very sneaky, though."

"Not an excuse," was the reply. Cecily rounded on the rest of the pirates gathered before her. After the plate throwing incident, everyone had gotten much quieter. "Anyone else?"

"I have a problem," Easton spoke up sourly. "Would ye care to explain to me why ye left _Matthews _in charge while ye were gone? He's bloody Navy! Not to mention, not exactly a strong presence. The man couldn't even…."

"I don't want to hear it!" Cecily growled, cutting him off. "From what I've been told, _ye_ were the only one who needed to be strong-armed! I left Matthews in charge because I trusted him the most! That may be hard fer ye to hear, Easton, but I wasn't goin' to make a _pirate_ me substitute! I _am_ a pirate, I know better than that!"

"Are ye sayin' ye can't trust me?" Easton demanded, offended.

"I'm sayin' I can't trust any o' ye blackhearts!" Cecily snapped. "Be like leavin' a fox to guard the henhouse. What do ye take me fer, a fool?"

"She's got a point," Sparrow announced. Cecily couldn't tell if the man was genuinely being helpful, or if he just liked to stir the pot. She decided on the latter. "I think we all know we would have taken the goods and run. I mean, I certainly would have."

"Thank ye, Sparrow, that's exactly why ye weren't left in charge," Cecily replied, smiling altogether too sweetly at the dreadlocked man. "As I was sayin' Easton, I thought Matthews made a fine acting Commodore. And that's all the shite I want to hear on the subject!"

Easton fell silent, looking petulant. Cecily gave a heavy sigh. "Is that the last o' it?" she snarled.

Whether it was or not, everyone remained silent anyways. Their commodore's black mood didn't exactly create a nurturing, sharing environment.

"Good," she grumbled. "All right, course o' action is such: preparations must be made to sail, and they must be made fast. Same goes for battle preparations – stocked artillery is necessary, as I think we all know. Beckett's convoy will probably pull out in a matter of two days time, at most. We must be prepared to sail at any given notice. Does anyone have any objections?"

"I believe ye said last time we were all together that ye had made a mistake in allowin' the battle to start before ye were in a position to retrieve the heart," Sparrow said, feigning disinterest. "Would ye like to make us all acquainted with yer plan to remedy that past mistake, and explain to us how ye plan on getting the heart back from Beckett so early on in the battle as ye led us to believe was necessary?"

Cecily shot him a calculating squint. She didn't buy his mildly curious, 'it's all inconsequential to me' act for one moment. "Why don't ye let me worry about that?" she returned icily.

Sparrow didn't like that answer, she could tell. Cecily didn't give a damn, however. She knew what Sparrow was planning on doing – he wanted to get to the heart first. The hell she was going to give him any sort of leverage whatsoever.

"Any more pressing issues? Or can I adjourn this bloody joke o' a meeting?" Cecily snapped at her fleet.

No one volunteered to speak. "Good," she said. "Everyone off me ship!"

Everyone filed quickly out of the _Sunrise_'s galley. Tanner was one of the last to leave. He stopped beside Cecily as he made his way out, looking her in the eye while wearing one of his infuriating mild smiles. "I trust yer sabotage mission went according to plan, Commodore?" he asked slyly.

"Aye," she agreed, cocking her eyebrow. "That it did. I trust ye were an aid to Captain Matthews and not a disservice?"

"I always aim to be helpful," Tanner returned.

"That's a new one," Cecily said dryly. "Bullet wound healed up nicely?"

"Perfectly," he replied. "Yer doctor's excellent. Although, I am a quick healer."

Cecily snorted. "Givin' credit where credit's due, I see."

He smirked. "Good day, Cecily." Then he left, brushing past her shoulder on the way to the stairs. Cecily swallowed slightly at the contact, despite it being so small. She couldn't help the tiny smile that formed on her lips, or the way her head swung involuntarily to watch him walk away.

Then she felt eyes on her from within the galley. Looking up, she made eye contact with James. He was staring at her. Cecily couldn't quite read his expression, but the way his eyes penetrated hers was rather unsettling. Finally, he walked slowly out of the galley, without a word.

This was all getting to be too much. Cecily sighed heavily, also leaving the galley. The whole fleet was back together again – and they were not a happy family.

* * *


	24. Dealing with the Untrustworthy

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 26: Dealing with the Untrustworthy

It had been a long time since Cecily had last stepped foot in her office, and it felt fantastic to walk through the door again. With great pleasure, she plopped down in the familiar desk chair and propped her feet up on her desk as she always did. She had missed her _Sunrise_, and she had missed having her own office, and her own quarters. The time spent in such close proximity with Norrington had not been entirely unpleasant, she supposed, but she needed her space. She was tired of feeling like a guest, and all the time spent alone with James was becoming rather problematic. What she and James had been doing lately was unacceptable. She had much more important issues to deal with, and she couldn't afford to be distracted this way. And the look they had shared in the galley as the meeting adjourned had worried her; it looked reminiscent of jealousy. Cecily always had more than one sexual partner, and if Norrington couldn't handle that, then their "trysts," as he was so fond of calling them, had been mistakes.

But other issues demanded her attention right now, and she couldn't spend too much time worrying about Norrington. Her fleet was back together again, but they still weren't getting along. Beckett would set sail in a few days time, and she had to be sure they were ready to fight. And on top of it all, she still had the issue of Sao Feng, Davy Jones, Calypso, and the heart to contend with.

As she sat there, enjoying her office and mulling over the many problems that had presented themselves over the past few days, there was a knock on her office door. Cecily groaned inwardly, annoyed at her privacy being disturbed. "What?" she snapped loudly.

"Ye have a visitor," Marjorie's voice floated through the thick wood of the door. "It's Captain Barboussa."

Cecily's interest was immediately peaked. "Send him in," she ordered.

A few moments later, Captain Hector Barboussa walked in the door, with his monkey perched on his shoulder. "Well, hello, Captain Barboussa," she announced, smiling in a friendly fashion. "Have a seat, darling."

He took the seat across the desk from her, wearing his trademark smirk. "Commodore O'Connor," he drawled. "Glad to be back aboard yer ship, I see?"

"Aye," she replied, still friendly. "What is it that ye want from me? Ye havin' a problem with yer co-captain, or some other nonsense?"

Barboussa's smirk widened. "Oh, Commodore O'Connor, I'm always havin' a problem with me co-captain, I'm afraid," he returned. "But that's not why I'm here at all. I rather think ye know why I'm here, don't ye Commodore?"

Cecily allowed herself a smirk of her own. "I have me suspicions," was her reply. "But I'm not much fer guessin' games, Barboussa, so why don't ye fess up and tell me what ye want."

He leaned back in the chair, absently stroking his pet's fur. "I believe ye offered me a deal before ye left for Dominica, didn't ye?" he murmured slowly, his eye twinkling. "As I recall, ye asked me to lead a certain Singaporean pirate lord to a certain mythical sea goddess in exchange fer the heart o' Davy Jones himself. Does that ring a bell, Commodore O'Connor?"

A genuinely amused smile spread across the face of Cecily O'Connor. "Aye, I believe it rings at least a tiny bell, Captain Barboussa. Why? Are ye here to accept me offer?"

"Aye, but with a slight… alteration," he said, his smirk growing.

"An alteration?" Cecily asked, feigning interest. "What sort o' alteration, darling?"

"A very modest one," he replied. "Nothing to yer disadvantage. In fact, one might claim it to be to yer benefit."

"Go on."

"I would gladly lead Sao Feng to Calypso, as stipulated in yer original offer, in exchange fer the heart of Davy Jones himself. However, as I am sure ye are aware, me co-captain doesn't quite fit into the aforementioned equation. Captain Sparrow, I am afraid, rather presents a problem when it comes to carrying out yer orders, Commodore, and I feel it would most certainly be in both our best interests to… displace him, as it were."

Cecily slowly raised an eyebrow. "Ye wish to 'displace' our good Captain Sparrow?" she asked. "And exactly why do ye think that's necessary?"

"Well, ye know as well as I do that Jack won't be helpful when it comes to the mission ye're about to entrust me with," Barboussa said, rather slyly if truth be told. "If I take the _Pearl_, and sail to find Calypso with Sao Feng on me tail, I rather think Jack will object. It would just be so much easier to carry out yer wishes if I didn't have a second captain hangin' round me neck."

Cecily smiled slowly. "Are ye suggestin' that Sparrow's presence will impede yer venture?"

"Aye, that is exactly what I mean to suggest."

"I see," Cecily murmured. "And ye mean to ask _me _to help ye steal the _Pearl_ from Sparrow, as well as give ye the heart, just so ye will take Sao Feng to his Calypso?"

"Almost," Barboussa said with a smile. "It's not really stealing, ye know, since technically the ship belongs to _me_."

Cecily leaned back in her chair, looking pensive. "I don't know, Barboussa, darling. That sounds like ye're gettin' the better end o' the deal. Maybe I get Sao Feng out o' me hair, but ye get the heart o' Davy Jones, _and_ yer own ship."

"Ah, yes, I understand yer concern," Barboussa agreed. "But allow us to… shift perspective fer a second. If _I_ am the sole captain o' the _Pearl_, then there's no one to get in _our_ way, do ye get me meaning? Ye know that _I_ will uphold me end o' the deal, but Jack is under no such obligation. Do ye really want to risk him hurtin' our business, Commodore?"

A small smirk slowly crossed Cecily's face. "So what's yer plan, darling? Fight the battle, win, and then…?"

"And then ye give me the heart," Barboussa grinned, "And I sail away with Sao Feng, while ye somehow keep Jack off his ship."

Cecily raised an eyebrow. "Separate a captain from his ship?" she asked skeptically. "Sounds like a tough order to fill."

"Take it or leave it, Commodore," Barboussa replied.

Cecily stared calculatingly at Barboussa, silent for a few moments. Finally, she said, "All right, Barboussa. Ye'll get yer heart, and yer ship, and I'll lose Sao Feng. We have an accord – almost."

Barboussa's grin faded. "Almost?" he inquired.

A grin spread across Cecily's face as his grin disappeared. "Aye," she agreed. "Ye'll have to promise me, Captain Barboussa, that once ye have the heart o' Davy Jones, ye'll stab it."

"Would I do anything else?"

"I'm not sure," Cecily returned carefully. "But ye must do it, and soon after receivin' it, Barboussa. Me neck's ridin' on it, as I'm sure ye recall."

Barboussa smirked. "All right," he said, holding out his hand. "I agree to the terms. Do we have an accord?"

Cecily's grin broadened and she shook his outstretched hand. "Aye," she agreed. "We have an accord."

* * *

Moments after Barboussa had left her office, as Cecily silently rejoiced that she had finally solved one of her problems, her door burst open angrily, slamming into the wall, and revealing an incensed Elizabeth Swann, who strode furiously into Cecily's office without ceremony. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" she exclaimed lividly.

Cecily's eyes narrowed, standing up so fast she knocked her desk chair over. "Miss Swann, what the bloody hell do ye think ye're doing in me office!?" she thundered.

Elizabeth did not quail under the pirate commodore's fury, and only slammed the door closed behind her, approaching the desk with a black look. "You foolish woman," she shouted, sounding completely sure of herself. If Cecily hadn't been so livid, she might have been impressed. "Agreeing to give the heart to Barboussa! Do you have any idea what that man will do with that sort of power? You're making the exact same mistake as James Norrington did! Have you learned nothing?"

"Don't ye take that tone o' voice with me, Miss Swann!" Cecily snapped. "Ye'll respect me as yer superior, or ye will pay dearly!"

Elizabeth did not look intimidated in the slightest. This only served to further infuriate Cecily. "You know Will needs that heart to save his father!"

"Aw, did yer fiancé send his li'l wife-to-be to fight his battles fer him?" Cecily asked softly, the mockery painfully evident in her voice. "How brave o' him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Will has no idea I'm here," Elizabeth snapped.

"Isn't that what they all say?" Cecily returned, her voice still low and mocking. Elizabeth's lip trembled with fury.

"You promised him he would be allowed the heart!" she exclaimed, outraged.

"I promised no such thing!" Cecily thundered. "I merely allowed Will to get away without tellin' me all the details o' his deal with Sao Feng – a deal that backfired greatly, I'd like to point out! Yer bloody fiancé has only himself to blame fer the turn o' events!"

"And you'll have only yourself to blame for the outcome of this whole new mistake you've just made!" Elizabeth cried without missing a beat. "Barboussa will only follow in Beckett's footsteps! With the heart in Barboussa's possession, the sea will be ruined further than it already has…"

"Maybe fer yer ilk," Cecily retorted bitterly. "But fer me and me kind? A pirate in control o' the ocean will be li'l less than a blessing."

"How can you be so _blind_?"

"After the stunt yer fiancé pulled, ye should be thankin' whate'er the hell ye pray to fer keepin' his sorry arse alive!" Cecily bellowed. "Sao Feng would have killed him! _I_ saved his life, Miss Swann, _me_! Ye should _thank_ me, not _yell_ at me! If the heart winds up in the wrong hands, then yer fiancé can blame his self! I'm doin' what I have to fer this bloody fleet, and not a one o' ye seems to understand _or_ appreciate that!"

Elizabeth fell silent, although the glower didn't leave her face. Cecily took a deep, calming breath, and said in a low, yet deadly tone, "I will say no more on the subject. Please, Miss Swann, remove yerself from me office."

A small, bitter smile crossed the young woman's face. "You will regret this," she announced. "Do you really think you can count on Barboussa to save you? I know you think he'll stab the heart, and kill Jones, and then your worries will be over, but consider things logically: there are more ways than one to use that heart, and Barboussa has just gone to great lengths to ensure the _Pearl_ will be his. If he stabs that heart, then he'll become captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ – what does he need the _Pearl _for? You are trusting your fate into the most untrustworthy of hands."

"Are ye eavesdroppin' on me private conversations, Miss Swann?" Cecily asked dangerously. "One more show o' insubordination, and I'll be countin' out lashes. Get yer arse off me ship!"

Elizabeth spun on her heel and stormed angrily out of Cecily's office, slamming the door behind her. Cecily righted her overturned chair rather violently. There was an almost timid knock on the door.

"What?" Cecily roared.

The door opened cautiously, and Marjorie poked her head into the office. "Cap'n?" she asked. "Is everythin' alright in here?"

"Everythin' is just perfect, Marjorie," Cecily returned, rather sarcastically. "Do me a favor, and increase the guard on deck, eh? I don't want anymore o' me beloved fleet sneakin' aboard and hollerin' at me, ye hear?"

"Aye, Cap'n," Marjorie said, ducking back out of the office. Once alone, Cecily took a deep breath, and sat down at her desk. She rather missed the time spent in Dominica, when she had only Norrington and Sao Feng to worry about. They had been more than trying, true, but at least there had only been two of them.

There came another knock on the door. Cecily groaned. "What now?" she thundered.

Again, Marjorie peered around the door into her captain's office. "Someone to see ye, Cap'n," she announced, hesitation in her voice.

"Who the hell are they and what the hell do they want?" Cecily growled.

"Nathaniel Easton, Commodore O'Connor," Easton's voice rang out. The short, pierced man stepped into the doorway. Cecily sighed.

"Well?" she asked impatiently. "What the hell do ye want?"

Easton entered the office, closing the door behind him. "I want to speak to ye about what ye're doing."

Cecily leaned back in her chair, propping her feet on the desk. "Be more specific, darling," she said. "What is it I'm doin' ye want to speak to me about?"

"Many things ye're doing," Easton replied. "But I'll start with Matthews, for one. How could ye put the Navy man in charge, Cecily? Granted, when it comes to people ye can trust, pirates generally ain't the choice, but when ye are a pirate, the Navy ain't yer best bet either. I was there, Cecily. Ye could have trusted me. Ye know that."

"No, I don't know that," she retorted. "I don't much o' anythin' fer sure at the moment."

Nathaniel stared hard at her for a moment. "Ye don't trust me, then?"

"No," was the reply. "I don't trust any o' ye."

Easton let loose a short, quiet, bitter laugh. "I see," he said. "So no matter what I do to convince ye otherwise, none of it matters. Ye'll never trust me."

A cheeky grin spread across her face. "I wouldn't say never, darling."

Easton opted not to smile back. "I have other concerns," he went on. "First, the deal you made with Jones?"

"Ancient history, darling," Cecily returned, her cheeky grin fading and her face hardening. "Why are we talkin' about it now?"

"Because it pertains to the deal ye just made with Barboussa," Easton returned.

"How the hell do ye know of that?"

"Miss Swann mentioned it."

Cecily swore. "That damn broad."

"Insultin' her won't change a bloody thing, Cecily," Easton snapped. "Ye just promised the only thing that can save ye to a man who ye _know_ ye can't trust – and yet ye chose Matthews over me to take yer place as commodore in yer absence. I don't understand ye, Cecily. And I'd like to know what ye're doing."

Cecily slowly stood, and approached Easton in a rather menacing manner. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she gave him a hard shove, sending him sprawling in the chair by her desk. Tightening her grip on his shoulder, she leaned down into his face, and said, far too calmly, "Ye already do, darling. Ye just laid it out. And ye got it all right, I'm afraid. What could ye possibly need clarifying fer?"

"I want to know why."

"But ye don't need to know," Cecily snapped. "All ye need to know is that whatever I do, I do fer the good o' ye. For the good o' all o' ye. The good o' the fleet."

Easton glowered at her. "And fer the good of ye?"

Cecily snorted.

Easton stood, brushing past her on the way out the door. "I've known ye a long time, Cecily," he said. "And I've never known ye to be a martyr."

Cecily turned furiously, but Easton had left. She stormed the door and slammed it shut. One more conversation like that, and Cecily's fleet was going to be short one person – because she was going to shoot someone.

* * *


	25. Tomorrow, We Fight

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 27: Tomorrow, We Fight

It was about midmorning the following day, and Cecily was again sitting in her office, this time staring at the map laid out before her. Beckett's ships appeared to still be in the harbor, but she had no idea how long that would last. She was waiting on intelligence from her spies to decide exactly when to order the attack.

So the knock that came on the door at that moment was very timely. After giving her visitor the okay to come in, a young soldier entered the office. "What do ye need, lad?" she asked.

"I have news of Beckett's convoy, Commodore," he announced.

"What o' it?"

"We believe they're setting sail tomorrow morning," he said. "They're preparing their ships now."

Cecily absorbed this new bit of information. If her fleet hurried, they too could be prepared by the following morning – and when Beckett's ships pulled out, her ships would attack.

She nodded at the soldier. "All right, lad, thank ye. Get on yer way."

The soldier scurried out of the office, and Cecily stood up. She marched out on deck of the _Sunrise_, calling, "Marjorie!!"

Her first mate raced over to her captain. "Aye, Cap'n? What is it?"

"Pass the word along," she ordered. "I want e'ery captain in the fleet aboard me ship in under an hour. We have matters o' importance to discuss."

"Aye, Cap'n," Marjorie acquiesced. Then she ran off to fulfill her captain's orders.

Cecily grinned slightly as she watched her first mate race off. The end of this venture was upon them at long last.

* * *

Cecily stood at the end of one of the long tables in her ship's galley, watching the pirates file in. Anamaria Freeman was one of the first to enter, and she gave her commodore a friendly nod, which Cecily returned. The woman sat near the head of the table, and was soon accompanied by Jack Sparrow, who she cast a dark look at. Barboussa followed, and Cecily shared a nod with him as well. He also sat close by her. Norrington and Matthews took their seats by the head of the table, Matthews greeting her and Norrington ignoring her. Cecily rolled her eyes.

Easton also ignored her, as did Vontoya, Turner, and Elizabeth. Cecily considered throwing Will and Elizabeth out – there was no real reason for them to be at the meeting anyway – but decided to let it slide. Skip, Ronan, and Jim, however, seemed friendly towards her, and when Tanner entered, he gave her his usual smug smirk, so she knew he was on her side. But Sao Feng, the last to walk into the galley, cast a dark look at her as he took his seat, and Cecily knew that when it came to the pirate lord from Singapore, it was imperative for her to watch her step.

As they all took their seats and began to fall quiet, Cecily cleared her throat to signal the start of the meeting. Every face assembled at the long table before her turned to look at her. "Good news, ladies and gents," she announced. "I have intelligence that Beckett plans to pull out tomorrow morning. That means the conditions are perfect fer a battle. We must attack as they leave harbor. Tomorrow, we fight."

Silence descended in the galley. Finally, Skip announced, "What, just like that? Don't ye maybe want to talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" Cecily returned, raising her eyebrow. "We've been waitin' all this time fer exactly this – an opportunity to attack. And I see no better opportunity than the one we just stumbled upon. Do ye have an idea o' yer own, Captain Worchester, that ye think to be better than mine?"

The last question sounded vaguely dangerous. Skip didn't back down though. "Not all, Cap'n," he replied. "I just think we ought to discuss a course of action, is all."

"Well, o' course we ought to discuss a course o' action," Cecily responded. "I was gettin' to that. Have some bloody patience fer once in yer life."

Before Skip could reply, he was cut off by Captain Sparrow. "So ye plan to set sail fer the opposite side of the island in the wee hours of the morning in order to cut off Lord Beckett, supposedly takin' him by surprise, and blow his ships to bits, while, of course, findin' some way to sneak aboard the main ship of the eight ships, where, presumably, the heart of Davy Jones is hidden, in order for ye to nick it just in the nick of time, and then race back aboard yer ship in order to complete yer mission and finish, well – blowin' Beckett's ships to bits. Do I understand yer plan?"

"Aye," Cecily returned without skipping a beat. "Do ye have a problem with said plan?"

"No, no, no problem at all," Sparrow replied. "Excepting, of course, exactly _how_ ye plan to execute said plan, particularly the part where ye manage to get on Beckett's flag ship, steal the heart, and, of course, the most troublin' of all – how ye plan to blow said ships to bits."

Cecily raised her eyebrow at him. "Well, me good commodore?" Jack pressed. "Thoughts?"

"Why do ye ask?" Cecily said back. "Have _ye_ thoughts, Captain Sparrow?"

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do," he replied. "But I wouldn't presume to step on yer toes, commodore. Please, do go on."

"Thank ye fer yer encouragement, Captain Sparrow," Cecily returned dryly. "Me plan is exactly this: we will split into two convoys, six in each. Each convoy will sail round the island, coming from opposite directions, and meet outside the harbor, where Beckett's ships will be sailin' from. We will then attack said fleet on both sides without warning. As soon as the battle starts, I will navigate me ship to come up beside the _Endeavor_ – and I will not leave that ship until her master is dead, and the heart is in mine hands. How does that sound, Captain Sparrow?"

"A tad more detailed than expected," Jack retorted. "However," (here he stood and approached the pirate commodore) "I must say, I approve of yer plan most mightily. Excellent work, commodore, and I defy anyone here to say otherwise!"

Cecily stared at the pirate captain beside her. He gave her a rather cheeky grin – something Cecily was accustomed to giving, not receiving – and then quickly turned away from her. There was no sincerity in his eyes, and Cecily found herself not believing him in the slightest. Trust did not exist between Cecily and Captain Sparrow – and she'd be damned if she let him get the best of her. Something was percolating behind those dark lined eyes, and Cecily knew she'd have to keep her eye on Jack.

After a few short exchanges among the gathered captains, their plans were finalized, and it was agreed that they all would sail into battle early the next morning. That gave them near the entire day to prepare their vessels for war.

Cecily adjourned the meeting and followed her troops on deck. "Sao Feng!" she called after the pirate lord, who was fighting his way towards the gangplank.

Sao Feng paused on deck, turning slowly to look at her. "Come here, lad!" she called. "I got someone I want to introduce ye to."

Barboussa attempted to slip past Cecily unnoticed, but failed. She caught him by the arm and yanked him back to her side. "What's yer hurry, Hector, darling?" she asked with a smirk. "I got a new friend fer ye."

Sao Feng approached the pair of them. "Ah, Sao Feng, darling," Cecily greeted him, far too friendly. "Meet Hector Barboussa. Hector, this is Sao Feng."

The two pirate men glowered at each other. "Oh, dear, how silly o' me," Cecily said, feigning embarrassment. "Why, o' course the two o' ye already know one another. Well, good, this ought to be easier fer ye then. Sao Feng, Captain Barboussa here is one o' the very few pirates blessed with the knowledge o' the location o' the famed goddess Calypso. He will be yer personal escort on the road to findin' yer sea goddess. The two o' ye will set sail with one another the day followin' tomorrow's battle, and may ye have much luck in yer venture."

Sao Feng cast a dark and dangerous look Cecily's way. "I beg your pardon, Commodore," he murmured. "But I thought _you_ would be the one to take me to Calypso."

"Ye thought wrong," she replied. "I have far too many important things to do. However, Captain Barboussa has graciously offered to go in me place. Have fun."

Sao Feng glowered at her. Cecily smiled back. He turned on Barboussa. "Well, then, Captain Barboussa," he growled, leaning into the sea-wizened old pirate's face. "I suppose I will look forward to our voyage together."

Barboussa smiled nervously, managing a weak chuckle. "As will I," he replied.

Sao Feng stormed off Cecily's ship. Barboussa turned on her. "Makin' sure I keep me end of the bargain, I see," he drawled, his face uncomfortably close to hers. "Sad circumstances, these, when an accord struck between two honest pirates fosters doubt, and not even the code itself can reassure a member of the brethren. Brings tears to an old sea dog's eyes to know a man can't trust his brother."

Cecily snorted. "Trust me brother? When me brother is one of the brethren, I can't help but doubt his trustworthiness. A lass got to watch her back with brothers like these."

"Well said, Commodore," was Barboussa's only reply. With that said, the pirate captain turned from her and headed to the longboats.

"I see you've managed to wriggle out of one of your many predicaments," a snobby, dreary British accent sounded in her ear. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Well, knock me o'er," Cecily replied, rounding on James Norrington. "He speaks. And here I thought I'd been dropped from yer list o' conversationalists, and demoted to receiver o' surly looks. Ye havin' some sort o' problem, Norrington?"

"Not at all, Commodore O'Connor," Norrington replied, a small smile playing around his lips. "So, Barboussa accepted your deal."

"Aye, that he did," Cecily replied.

"And you expect him to honor it."

"Aye, that I do."

Norrington stared at her for a while. Cecily tried to ignore him, but finally couldn't stand it anymore. "What?" she demanded. "Do ye have somethin' ye'd like to say?"

He shook his head. "No," he replied. "Nothing."

As he said this, Captain Hartford passed by the pair of them, and caught Cecily's eye before following the other captains off the ship. Barely conscious that she was doing it, Cecily watched him cross the deck and leave the _Sunrise_. Suddenly, Norrington cleared his throat in her ear, and she rather guiltily swung her head back to look at him.

He stared at her, and then cast a glance in the direction Hartford had gone. Then Norrington shook his head again. "I see you're happy to see Captain Hartford again."

Cecily wasn't sure what the appropriate reply to that was, but she spat one out anyway. "Just glad the idiot didn't die savin' me neck, s'all."

Norrington nodded, but Cecily wasn't convinced he believed her answer. "I'd best be going," he said. "I'll see you in battle tomorrow." Then he walked away, and left the ship, leaving Cecily feeling very confused all of a sudden – and not sure why.

She strode into her office, closing the door behind her, and sat down at her desk. No sooner had she taken her seat, but her door opened again and Marjorie strode in. "Ye all right, Cap'n?" she asked.

"Did ye forget how to knock?" Cecily groused.

Marjorie smirked, knowing better than to take offense. "Ye looked troubled out on deck there, Cap'n, is all."

"Should I not be troubled?" Cecily returned. "Tell me ye're not, and I'll call ye a liar. I got the bloody most difficult fleet in all the world's waters under me control, and they ain't givin' me a moment's rest. And tomorrow, I go up against a mad man who's in control o' the sea. I am most certainly troubled."

Marjorie nodded, taking a seat across the desk from her captain. "I know all that," she replied. "But… ye look as though there's more to trouble ye than even that."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Marjorie."

"Nothin' ye want to talk about?"

"No offense, but I'd rather have me eyes taken out with spoons," Cecily snapped.

Marjorie smirked again, not bothering to reply. She just sat there, across the desk from her captain. Eventually, Cecily sighed and said, "I don't know, Marjorie. Ye ever… ye ever just wake up one mornin' and realize ye've fucked yer life up all to hell?"

Marjorie gave a slight chuckle. "All the bloody time, Cap'n."

Cecily gave her first mate an amused smile. "I don't think I care fer the feeling," she announced.

"I don't think ye're supposed to," Marjorie replied. The two of them were silent for a moment, and then Marjorie asked, "Ye slept with Norrington, didn't ye?"

Cecily looked up at the other woman in shock. "I don't know what ye're talkin' about," she replied, sounding offended.

Marjorie snorted. "Ye slept with him," she said, answering her own question.

Cecily huffed, staring indignantly at her first mate. "I did not!"

Marjorie raised an eyebrow. Cecily sighed. "All right, I did," she muttered. "What's it to ye?"

"Nothing, Cap'n," Marjorie returned. "Just thought that might have somthin' to do with yer mood, especially now that Hartford's back and all. Bound to be a li'l confusing, what with…"

"I ain't confused," Cecily snapped. "Sex is sex, and that is that. It's nothin' to get confused o'er."

"Of course it's not," Marjorie agreed, although Cecily knew she didn't mean it. "I'll just leave ye alone then."

Cecily grunted at her first mate, who strode out of the room, rather smugly if truth be told. What did she know anyway, Cecily thought grumpily to herself.

A loud noise outside distracted her. Frowning, she stood up and went out on deck to investigate. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Cecily gave up and headed back into her office and sat back down at her desk. As she began to rifle through her desk drawers for her map, she heard a pistol cock in her ear.

Slowly, she turned to her right side to see Will Turner standing beside her chair, holding his pistil steadily at her temple. "Well, well, Mr. Turner," she grinned, seemingly undaunted by the gun at her head. "I was wonderin' when I'd be seein' ye."

"I'm here to speak to you about the heart of Davy Jones," Will said in a low, threatening voice, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I'm afraid ye're too late on that point," Cecily returned, leaning back casually in her chair and propping her feet up on the desk. "The heart's already been promised to someone. Ye'll have to discuss it with Captain Barboussa."

"I don't intend for it ever to get to Captain Barboussa," Will returned. "I want that heart, and you _will_ give it to me."

"No chance, Mr. Turner," Cecily replied evenly. "I may not be the most honest o' women, but I ain't ne'er been the type to violate the code, either."

"You are exactly the type to violate the code!" Will nearly shouted. It was with great difficulty that he managed to keep his volume low. "You've double crossed nearly everyone you've brought on this venture – what's one more going to matter?"

"I have not!" Cecily exclaimed. "I've upheld me end o' e'ery bargain I made!"

"But not in the way it was meant to be upheld," Will pointed out.

"Darling, haven't ye been payin' attention?" Cecily returned. "That's the way _all_ pirates uphold their end o' a bargain."

Will was clearly furious at this response, but could think of nothing to say in return. "Besides, Mr. Turner, if ye will recall," Cecily went on. "_Ye_ are the one who made a deal with Sao Feng that ye had absolutely _no_ intention o' upholding. Not even in the smallest way possible. So tell me, darling, who's the actual code-breaker here – ye or me?"

Will slowly lowered the pistol. "Is there any way to convince you to give me the heart?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," Cecily returned.

Will began to pace the office, still gripping the pistol. Cecily examined her nails, casually saying, "However, I could be convinced to give ye the _opportunity_ to _stab_ the heart."

Will looked up with interest. "Go on," he said.

She smiled slowly, glancing up at him. "I have me doubts that Barboussa will actually _stab_ the heart," she murmured. "I believe he'll be more inclined to take what I like to call… the 'Beckett route.' So, since I _know_ that _ye_ will _stab_ the heart – and let's face it, if nobody _stabs _heart, I'm up shite creek without a paddle – there may be a way to _give_ Barboussa the heart and allow _ye_ to stab it."

Will took a seat across from Cecily, interest peaked. "I'm listening," he announced.

Cecily grinned. Soon, all her bases would be covered. She was going to come out of this venture the way she came out of every venture – squeaky clean, and with all her body parts in tact.

* * *


	26. A Recovered Love and a Broken Spell

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 28: A Recovered Love and a Broken Spell

As the morning faded into afternoon, Elizabeth Swann sat on deck of the _Black Pearl_, looking rather mournfully out at the clear blue sea. Despite her best efforts, Commodore O'Connor would not waver in her final decision concerning the heart. This practically devastated Elizabeth.

Ever since her and Will had decided to rescue Jack from World's End, the two of them had ceased to speak. She wasn't sure why, but she could sense Will was angry with her, and it didn't help matters that often times, Elizabeth was angry with herself. Her showdown with Commodore O'Connor had been her final hope. If she could convince Cecily to allow Will the heart of Davy Jones, then perhaps he'd finally forgive her.

"Elizabeth."

She started at her whispered name. Glancing over her shoulder, she found her fiancé standing directly behind her, staring uncertainly. Elizabeth managed a weak smile. "Yes, Will?"

He came and took a seat beside her. For a moment, the two of them were quiet, staring at the the wooden planks beneath their feet. "I have good news," Will said finally.

"What is it?" she asked.

He smiled slightly. "Commodore O'Connor made a deal with me."

A grin spread across Elizabeth's face. "Did she? Is she giving you the heart?"

Will made a peculiar face. "No… not exactly."

She frowned. "Then what did you agree to?"

He looked up from his lap and made eye contact with her for the first time in days. "She's going to make it possible for me to stab the heart," he murmured. "But… first, she's giving it to Barboussa."

The frown persisted on her face. "That sounds complicated," Elizabeth returned.

For the second time, a slight smile played on Will's lips. "It is," he agreed. "But I think it may work. Elizabeth, I… I'm finally going to save my father."

Elizabeth smiled, but sadly. "I'm glad, Will," she said softly.

He stared rather longingly at her. "Elizabeth… when I stab the heart, I…"

"Yes, I know," Elizabeth murmured. "You will have to replace Jones on the _Flying Dutchman_. And then you won't be able to step on land for ten years at a time. Which means that…"

"That I'll only be able to see you once every ten years," Will finished.

They fell silent. Finally, Will spoke. "Elizabeth, it's not fair," he announced. "It's not fair to you. You shouldn't have to wait for me like that. I can't ask you to."

Elizabeth turned to him in fear. "What do you mean?"

"It's not right," he insisted. "You should be free to make your own way. You shouldn't have to forge your destiny around mine. I can't ask you to."

"But… I want you to ask me to," Elizabeth exclaimed.

Will turned to her in surprise. "You do?"

"Of course I do!" she cried. "I don't understand what's happened to us, Will. I don't! Ever since Jack…"

"Yes, Jack has had a great deal to do with it," Will agreed, and rather sourly at that.

Elizabeth looked up in surprise. Studying his face, sudden comprehension dawned on her. "Oh my god," she whispered. "You think I'm in love with him."

Will turned to look at her. "Are you?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, Will… I… I love _you_. I always have. And I always will."

He looked away. "Still…" he said quietly. "My destiny seems to be pulling me away from you. And…"

"And what?" she snapped. "Don't do this to me, Will. Don't break my heart and pretend it's all for my own good. I don't care if I'll only see you once every ten years. I don't care if I'll spend the majority of my life waiting for you. It will be worth it, every damn decade."

Will stared at her, shocked by her sudden, passionate outburst. "Elizabeth, I love you," he whispered, grabbing hold of her hand. "I love you, I always have, I always will. And if you will have me…"

"I'll have you, every chance I get," Elizabeth interrupted. Will smiled, and went on with:

"If you'll have me, then I'll marry you. I'll marry you, right here and right now, and the two of us can spend what may be the last night of our lives in one another's arms. Will you take me, Elizabeth? Will you marry me?"

Elizabeth's grin was incandescent. "Of course I will!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. With that, the two of them lost themselves in a long, passionate kiss; something they'd missed dearly in the long time they'd spent estranged from one another.

* * *

Commodore O'Connor was seated in her office that same afternoon, agonizing over her map, and her plans for the morning. It was fairly possible that this would be the last afternoon she'd see, and she knew she wasn't really making the best of it. She was too caught up in the preparations for what would come the following day.

As she sat there, trying to work out all the details of the morrow's battle, she was startled when her door flew open and Nathaniel Easton stormed into her office.

He closed the door behind him, and stood at the office entrance, staring at her. Cecily frowned. "What do ye want?" she asked.

Slowly, he made his way to the desk. "I came to see ye," he announced.

"About what?" she retorted, fairly annoyed by the interruption.

"About nothing," he replied, making his way around the desk to stand at her side. "Just to see ye."

Cecily cocked an eyebrow at him. "What the hell are ye doing?"

Easton stared down at her. "Don't play this game with me, Cecily. Ye know what I want."

Cecily frowned at him. "Do ye know that I want it?"

Easton began to pace. "No, I don't. I don't know what ye want anymore, and it's drivin' me mad. Cecily," here he turned to her again, leaning over her chair. "Ye have to know I'm in love with ye. Ye must know. I ain't ever tried to keep it a secret."

Cecily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as though she had a headache. "Nate, please," she said. "Please, don't do this now. Tomorrow is a big day, and…"

"Precisely," he cut her off. "Tomorrow _is_ a big day, and we might all die. And before I die, I want to get this off me chest."

"I don't understand why ye had to go and pick _me_ o' all the bloody women in the world to fall in love with," Cecily snapped impatiently. "Damn it, Nate, do I strike ye as the type o' woman ye ought to be fallin' in love with? Have I e'er given ye any indication o' bein' anything other than a whore?"

"Don't say that about yourself," Easton said. Cecily groaned. "No, I mean it. Ye're not a whore just because ye choose to… to…"

"Stop justifying it," Cecily cut in. "I'm a whore. And I ain't e'er been in love, nor do I expect e'er to be. Ye'd do good to put me behind ye, and ne'er look back."

"I've tried," Easton returned. "And I can't, Cecily. I simply can't."

"Ye're goin' to have to," she replied. "Because I've done it to ye, Nate. I've put ye behind me, and I ain't e'er looked back."

Easton fell quiet, his facial expression unreadable. Cecily sighed. "Don't look at me like that, Nate. Damn it, lad, I warned ye the very first night we spent together. I warned ye what I was like. Don't ye dare say I didn't."

"Ye did," he agreed. "But that don't change a thing, not really."

Cecily rubbed her temples, exasperated. "Nate, can't ye just settle down with… with… with Katherine or something? She's been yer first mate fer years now, and she thinks the world o' ye!"

He began pacing again, furiously this time. "Which one is it?" he demanded.

Cecily looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What are ye goin' on about now?"

He stopped his pacing and looked hard at her. "Which is it?" he repeated. "What, are ye in love with Hartford or something? Cause I got news fer ye, Cecily, that man ain't interested in anyone but himself."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Nate, ye're bein' ridiculous. I ain't in love with nobody."

"So, it's the bloody Navy man then?" he went on. "Matthews?"

That one was a little too much for Cecily, who actually laughed. "What the hell are ye talkin' about?"

"Fine, so it's not Matthews," he said, not laughing with her. "That must mean… that must mean it's Norrington."

Cecily snorted. "Nate, this is really goin' too far," she said. "I told ye once, and I meant it: I'm not in love with anyone. I ne'er have been, and I ne'er will be. It ain't nothin' personal – consider it a character flaw o' mine."

"I see the way ye look at them," he barreled on, ignoring her. "Hartford and Norrington both. Ye never look at me that way."

"All right, that's enough," Cecily snapped, standing up and stalking to her office door. "Get out, Nate."

Before she could open the door, he had slammed her into it and planted a heavy kiss on her mouth. Cecily didn't kiss him back, but tried to be gentle as she pushed him away. "Nate, don't," she said firmly. "Get out."

He stared at her. Cecily hated the look on his face. She had always known her one night stand with Easton had been a mistake. It had been unfair to expect out of him what she got out of the other men she slept with. He wasn't like them – he was a different breed, and he didn't deserve the likes of her. He was too good for her.

Finally, without a word, Easton stormed out of her quarters, slamming the door behind him. Cecily winced at the sound. She couldn't help but feel rather guilty for what she had done to Nate.

However, she had to admit the lad had raised one good point. Tonight just might be her last night on earth. Suddenly, with little warning, even for herself, Cecily found herself rushing out of her office. Not to chase after Nate, but to run a last minute errand of her own.

* * *

"Captain Matthews!"

Lawrence Matthews started in surprise to hear his name called out. Frowning, he got up from his desk chair and walked to the door of his office. Stepping onto the deck, he found Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann rushing towards him.

"Yes?' he asked, his brow furrowed in mild concern. "Can I help you?"

Whatever the two of them needed, Matthews soon decided it wasn't anything to be concerned about. A huge grin spread across Miss Swann's face. Turner looked every bit as enthusiastic. "Captain Matthews," Elizabeth said, barely containing her excitement. "Might you do Will and I a favor?"

"Certainly, Miss Swann, what is it?"

"Marry us!" she exclaimed. "Please? Marry me and Will!"

Matthews blinked in surprise. This was a request he hadn't quite expected. "You want me to… marry you?" he repeated.

"Yes," Elizabeth nearly shouted. "Yes, please!"

"We would be forever in your debt if you agreed," Will added.

Matthews smiled at their enthusiasm. "All right then," he said, their happiness beginning to rub off on him. "Come right into my office, and I'll do the honors."

The absolutely thrilled couple followed Matthews inside. Not even ten minutes later, they exited the office, with a smiling Matthews watching after them. The ceremony complete, the newly-wed Turner couple wasted no time in finding someplace private onshore, and began celebrating their wedding night.

* * *

Tanner Hartford was sitting in his office aboard the _Savage Beauty_, his nose buried in a book, much like it always was. He was mildly startled to hear a small knock on the office door. "Come in!" he called, sounding rather disinterested.

The door slowly opened, and Tanner looked up to find, surprisingly enough, that Cecily O'Connor was standing in his doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Cecily," he murmured, relatively surprised. "What are ye doin' here?"

Cecily stepped slowly into the room, closing the door gently behind her. "Ye busy, Tanner?"

"Not really, no," he replied, closing the book and setting it down on the desk. "Why, Cecily? Ye need something?"

"Not exactly," she returned, approaching the desk. "More like want something."

He slowly raised his eyebrow. Cecily took a seat in the chair across the desk from him, facing the chair back. "Someone pointed out to me," she began. "That tomorrow we all might die."

"Couldn't have figured that out for yerself?" Tanner asked teasingly. Cecily smirked.

"It just occurred to me that maybe I ought to be wrappin' up loose ends, s'all," she said, not looking him in the eye.

"What sort of loose ends?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. The kind between ye and me, I suppose."

Tanner studied his hands. "Are there loose ends between ye and me?" he asked carefully.

Cecily sighed. "Are ye really goin' to make this difficult?"

"It's what I do."

"Look, Tanner," she said briskly. "I think ye know that what I feel fer ye is… different than what I feel fer most o' the men I've been with."

"Is it?"

"Don't be an arse. Ye know it is."

Tanner sighed heavily and looked up at her. "I thought we were in agreement on this," he murmured. "What is here can't ever be anything more than what it's been."

"We are in agreement," Cecily replied. "Perfect agreement. But in this circumstance, well… it ain't the same in this circumstance."

"What are ye goin' on about?"

"Tanner, tell me if I'm wrong. But ye took a bullet fer me. That's got to mean something. Did it mean something?"

There was silence. Then, Tanner stood up, and walked over to Cecily. She watched him with apprehension as he came closer. He stopped directly before her chair and planted a heavy kiss on her lips. Cecily's hands reached up and cupped his face, pulling him closer to her. Tanner swung his leg over her lap, and sat down on top of her, his hands creeping up inside her shirt.

Cecily pulled back rather suddenly, frowning at the pirate man before her. He frowned back. "What is it?" he asked.

In truth, Cecily didn't know what 'it' was. She continued to frown for a moment. Tanner tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Are we going to do this or not?"

"Don't waste me time, Tanner," she said suddenly, surprising even herself.

He blinked. "Waste yer time? What are ye goin' on about, Cecily?"

She bit her lip. "Ye didn't answer me question," she pointed out.

A heavy sigh escaped Tanner's lips, and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Why are ye makin' this so complicated?" he asked. "Ye don't usually do this."

Cecily looked away from him. "This could be me last night alive," she replied. "And I ain't goin' to waste it. So tell me, Tanner. Why did ye take the bullet fer me? What did it mean?"

Tanner sighed once more, and looked away from her as well. "Cecily, I… well, I…"

"Well ye what? Come on, Tanner, spit it out!"

He looked her straight in the eye. "I didn't mean to," he said shortly.

Cecily blinked at him. "Ye didn't mean to?"

He shrugged. "Well, hell, Cecily, I didn't want to see you die, but I sure as hell wasn't goin' to do it for ye. Ye really think I took that bullet on purpose? It was an accident – I was only tryin' to push ye out of the way."

Cecily stared at him, as though finally seeing him for the first time. "Ye really mean that, don't ye?" she murmured. "This is ye bein' honest with me."

He didn't reply. He didn't have to. The look on his face said it all. Tanner was being upfront and direct for once. And the result wasn't pretty.

It wasn't that Cecily wanted him to risk his life for her. She was a lot of things, but she wasn't _that_ selfish. And it wasn't that she expected him to care more about her than he did himself. But she couldn't help but think there was someone else who was worth more than Tanner was. That there was someone else she could be spending the night with, someone who deserved it - someone that, just maybe, she preferred to Tanner.

Tanner sighed. "Sorry to disillusion ye," he muttered, getting off her lap. Cecily didn't say a word to him. "Look, Cecily, it's not that I don't care about ye," he tried. "It's just, well… hell, Cecily, ye knew who I was."

"Aye," she agreed. "I did."

Tanner poked at some of the papers on his desk. "I've been in love before, ye know," he said, as though trying to excuse himself. "I have. But… not with ye, Cecily. I care a lot about ye, sure, but… I know what love is, and this ain't it."

"No one said it was," Cecily retorted. "I never thought it was. I don't love ye, Tanner. I just like ye more than most."

"Or ye did," he pointed out. "Until we had this little conversation."

Cecily shrugged. Tanner sighed again. "Cecily, look," he murmured. "This isn't how I wanted this to be."

"Nor I," she said, but she didn't look upset. The look on her face was pretty hard to read, but it wasn't an upset look. Cecily squinted up at him. "I didn't want to come here at all, I don't think," she announced. "I think… I think I felt obligated."

"Thanks a lot."

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that…"

"I think I know what it is."

The two of them fell silent for a moment. Finally, Tanner spoke up. "We can still…."

"No," Cecily interrupted. "No."

Tanner took his seat again. "Good luck tomorrow, Cecily," he said. "Try not to die."

She grinned at him. The smile was sincere. "Same to ye, Tanner," she returned, getting to her feet. Then she left his office, and his ship - but she didn't return to the _Sunrise_. She had another errand - if it could be called that - to run.

* * *


	27. You Taste Different

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 29: You Taste Different

James Norrington sat in his quarters, sipping on a brandy, and leafing through a book. He felt anxious. Tomorrow's battle was one of the first battles he'd entered into in a long time that hadn't required him to do extensive planning the night before – excepting, of course, the first battle he'd fought as a member of Cecily O'Connor's fleet. Somehow, though, this second battle felt more important, more significant – more likely to kill him. And so, as he stared down at the book in his hands, he found that all he was doing in fact was staring at the book – he wasn't reading it at all. He had no idea what page he was even on. Giving up, he tossed the book back at the shelf beside his bed. It missed and tumbled to the floor.

"That's no way to treat a book," a voice spoke from the door. "Yer mum would be right appalled if she could see where yer education went to."

Norrington started and looked up at the doorway. Cecily stood there, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed. "Come to see me?" he asked dryly, taking a sip from his brandy glass. "I'm rather surprised, truthfully."

"And why's that?" Cecily asked, walking into the room.

He raised an eyebrow. "I got the distinct impression that our… _trysts_… were at an end."

"What gave ye that impression?" Cecily inquired. "And what makes ye think I'm here to engage in a _tryst_?"

"That's all you ever come to see me for," Norrington replied, sitting up straighter. "I really don't know whether that should boost my ego or destroy it."

"Oh, come now, James," Cecily returned, a playful smile on her face. "That ain't true. Our little _trysts_ aren't the only reason I come a knockin' on yer door."

Norrington allowed himself a smile as well. "And what did you come here for tonight?" he asked.

Cecily took a seat at the foot of his bed. "Well, we got a bit o' a battle tomorrow morn," she explained. "And I thought that since I might die and all that shite, that perhaps I ought to be… usin' me last night on earth to its fullest possibility."

"Ah," Norrington said. "So you did come here for a _tryst_. And to what do I owe the honor of being your choice for the night? Did Hartford kick you out, or something?"

The smile completely disappeared from Cecily's face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Norrington didn't try to soften his words. "What do you take me for, Cecily, a fool? I'm not an idiot, you know. Ever since Hartford came back, you've barely spared me a passing glance. I was second choice before, and I'm second choice now. Hartford comes first, and I'm just convenient."

Cecily stared at him. He didn't look hurt, and he didn't sound hurt, but only a bitter man would speak those words. She wasn't sure what to say in reply. It wasn't like she could deny the truth of the statement. She had gone to Tanner first. But there was more to it than that. When it came to James, well… well… well, she… shite, if she couldn't even admit it to herself, then how the hell was she supposed to explain it to him?

She looked away from him and stared down at the floor for a moment. Then she gave him a shrug and a cheeky smile. "Well, if ye got better things to do…" was all she said before standing up and heading to the door – but she stopped before she made it halfway across the room.

James raised an eyebrow "You have something you'd like to say?"

Cecily raised her eyebrow as well, staring at him silently. He didn't say a word. Finally, Cecily announced, "Look, James, I ain't goin' to lie to ye. I cared fer Hartford, ye're right. But that don't mean there's nothing here."

Norrington stared at her, waiting for her to continue. Cecily fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. "James, I don't know why, but… there's just somethin' about ye. Somethin' about ye that keeps me comin' back fer more. I don't understand it, but… but… well, fer some reason, I give a damn what ye think about me. I don't know why I like ye so bloody much; I guess I chalk it up to the fact that ye're a good man. And all the other men around me are just the opposite o' that. I don't know, James, I guess… ye taste different. That's all."

Norrington continued to stare at her. Cecily shrugged. "Well, I just thought that… maybe… well, never mind, I guess. If ye don't want me, that's fine. I'll just be going."

Cecily turned from him. As she reached the door, it was suddenly closed in front of her. James, who had crossed the room as she had walked to the door, grabbed her by the arm and turned her around to face him. "Of course I want you, Cecily," he murmured.

She stared up at him. Norrington's lips came down on hers, and he yanked her into his chest. Cecily grabbed him by the arms, and she separated his lips with her tongue. His hands traveled up and down her back, and she gasped into his mouth. He bent down over her, and swept her legs out from under her, lifting her up into his arms. Cecily's arms wrapped around his neck, and he carried her to his bed, falling onto the mattress with her pinned beneath him. He crushed her into his chest, his arms wound tightly around her, kissing her furiously. Cecily ripped off his jacket. James pulled back away from her, cupping her face in his hands. He stared into her eyes. "You're staying until the morning," he announced.

Cecily raised an eyebrow. "I am, am I?"

"That's the agreement," he returned. "I'll let you into my bed, but only if you promise to stay in it all night."

Cecily let a sly grin cross her face. "I don't make promises I can't keep."

James let slip a sly smile of his own. "I'm not asking that of you, am I? I mean, I know you like to hop from mattress to mattress, but I think you can handle staying put for one night, can't you? One night's not the rest of your life."

Cecily laughed. "This night might be."

He smirked. "Well, then. Perhaps I am asking too much. What do you say, Cecily? Can you keep this promise?"

James was startled to see a smile on her face. A real smile, not a smirk. There was nothing cheeky in it. It was almost sweet. He wondered if he should be checking for signs of fever. "All right, James. If ye want to be a woman about it, I'm game to play along fer just the one time."

"We'll see who the woman is," he returned, again forcing her into his chest and kissing her hard on the mouth.

* * *

James Norrington collapsed back against his pillow. He reached over and grasped the woman beside him by the waist, yanking her to him. Cecily O'Connor buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Both were gasping for breath, and naked except for the bed sheets twisted around them. Cecily sighed into his chest as he stroked her hair back from her face. "That was a terrific start," she murmured. "Think ye can keep that up all night?"

James laughed. "I can certainly try," he replied.

She laughed slightly, and draped her arm over his stomach. James pulled her closer to him, pressing his face into her hair. "Are you tired?"

Cecily grinned and looked up at him. "Not all, darling. Why? Are ye ready to have another go at it?"

He smiled back. "Give me a moment."

Still grinning, she lowered her head back on his chest. His lips brushed the top of her forehead. "Do me a favor, James," she murmured into his skin.

"What would that be?"

"Try not to die tomorrow," she said. "I've decided I like ye, and would miss ye a li'l if ye kicked the bucket."

James snorted. "Same to you, Commodore."

"Mmm. I like it when ye call me that."

Her breath tickled the skin on his chest. James felt his heart skip a beat. He knew that this night would be over far too quickly. She crawled on top of him, a sly smile spreading slowly across her face. Her lips traveled from his chest to his neck. James stroked her hair almost absentmindedly. A frown crossed Cecily's face, and she looked up at him. "Not ready yet?"

He smiled softly at her. "I forget sometimes you're actually quite pretty."

Cecily blinked. "Come again?"

"It's difficult to remember," he said. "That underneath the yelling, and the fighting, and the power-grubbing, and the pistol-whipping, that there's actually a very nice looking woman. You hide it well."

"Yer not exactly talented at this whole 'pillow talk' thing, are ye?"

James laughed. "I suppose not. Neither are you, I'm afraid."

A grin crossed Cecily's face. "Fair enough," she replied. "Neither one o' us is very good at talking. Let's return to what we're good at… _not_ talking."

Her lips pecked at his neck. James sighed, and rolled her over on her back. Then he propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at her. Cecily frowned again. "Why are you so resistant to the idea of talking?" he asked her, sounding mildly curious.

Cecily frowned a little more, then shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin. "Haven't ye been payin' attention, darling?" she returned. "I'm a whore."

He laughed slightly. "That doesn't bother me as much as it should."

Cecily laughed back. "Never bothers any man as much as it should."

James stroked her face. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know…"

"Be a whore?"

"Right."

Cecily smirked. "Ye're _really_ bad at the whole pillow talk thing, ain't ye?"

He chuckled. "I suppose. Why won't you just answer the question?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why's it so important to ye?"

"I don't know," he returned. "I just… well, I just… sometimes I feel like I know you very well… but I don't know anything _about_ you."

"What makes ye think ye know me at all?"

He smirked. "You and I are a lot alike, Cecily. Surprisingly so."

She snorted. "Ye're a funny one."

James shrugged. "Don't believe me. I don't expect you to. That doesn't make it any less true."

Cecily looked away from him, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. James noticed. "What?" he asked. "Am I being a woman again?"

She smiled. "A _huge_ woman."

James climbed on top of her. "Well, I suppose I'll have to make you the woman again, won't I?"

Cecily smirked at him. His lips came down on top of hers. Once again, they ceased to talk, and instead turned to the activities of earlier in the evening.

* * *

A few rays of sunlight peeked into the room. It was morning. Cecily stirred slightly, slowly but surely blinking awake. She looked down at the sleeping man beneath her, and then glanced around the room. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. It was time to get up and prepare her troops for battle.

For a moment, Cecily could not make herself get up. Strangely enough, she found that James' chest was extremely comfortable. It was odd because Cecily had never been much for the cuddling. Another heavy sigh escaped her. The thing she hated most about James Norrington was the things he could bring out in her – things she didn't know were there.

Certain death had never been as probable as it was now. The possibility of dying in a fiery rain of gun and cannon fire was a risk she took everyday just by being who she was, but the risk was tenfold now that she was seeking battle with Navy forces. Ever since she'd started building her fleet, everything she knew had shifted. It was difficult to get her bearings in a world where she had to work with so many different – and opinionated – people. Cecily craved power the same way she'd been known to crave sex and alcohol – but the territory she'd explored as a pirate commodore was unknown to her, and it threw her slightly. So, was it really so wrong, in the face of the decision she'd made to fight back against Beckett, a decision that had led her to so many unchartered waters, that she sought comfort and distraction wherever she could find it?

James confused her. She'd never been quite this confused before. It was hard to understand why she did the things she did around him. Why she felt compelled to lay her feelings out the way she had the night before, or why she couldn't remove herself from his arms that morning.

Cecily finally forced herself out of the bunk. She slowly dressed, and cast one last look over at James, who still slept in the bed. Then she made her way towards the door.

"You're not going to say good-bye, then?"

She jumped. A glance back at the bed confirmed that the speaker was in fact James. He was awake, and he was smirking at her.

She smirked back. "Well, I didn't want to wake ye. But since ye already are… good bye, then."

He stood, sliding on his pants, and then approached her. "Good bye, Cecily," he murmured. "And good luck."

"Same to ye."

James pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back, very gently, and then he pulled away.

"Be ready in an hour," she ordered.

He laughed shortly. "Back to business, I see?"

"Always, darling. It's me way."

Even under her smirk, James could still hear the truth in the statement. He fiddled with a strand of her hair for a second, and then tapped her lightly on the cheek. His hand dropped down at his side.

"I'm trusting you with quite a bit today," he announced. "We all are."

Cecily fidgeted. "Nothin' I can't handle."

"I know," he agreed. "I know you won't let me – us, rather. I know you won't let _us_ down."

A grin crossed her face, and she turned from him, opening the door. Before she slipped out, she spared a final look back at him. For the second time in a matter of hours, James noted the cheekiness had left her face. However, there was no sweetness there this time. This time there was gratitude. "Thank ye, James," she murmured. Then she closed the door. He could hear her footsteps traveling down the hall.

He smiled rather ruefully. "You're welcome."

* * *


	28. Same Water, Different Blood

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to pirate hero for the review! It was great to finally get one on this story!

* * *

Chapter 30: Same Water, Different Blood

Every ship in Cecily O'Connor's fleet was a whirl of activity. The sun was barely up, but all their sails were flying, and the flag ship was nearly ready to raise anchor. The fleet had been divided into two different convoys, one headed by the _Bloody Sunrise_ and the other headed by the _Dauntless_. Cecily hadn't meant to give Norrington so much authority, but to her it had made sense. The _Dauntless_ was more powerful than every ship but the _Pearl_ – and she didn't trust the captains of the _Pearl_ at all. Besides, James Norrington was a commodore of the Royal Navy. He knew what he was doing. So she had pushed aside her concerns about how Norrington would read her decision, and gave the order.

Before either of the convoys could pull out, however, the tiny pirate fleet received a surprise – good or bad was a matter of perspective. Suddenly, directly before Cecily's ship, there was a great splash, and from deep beneath the sea surfaced the _Flying Dutchman_.

To say the pirate fleet was shocked would be an understatement. Despite her attempts to remain collected, Cecily felt her jaw drop. Then, as sudden as his ship had risen from the depths, the clawed and tentacle-faced Davy Jones appeared on deck of the _Sunrise._

"Captain O'Connor," the immortal captain announced in his Scottish accent, his squid lips smacking together. "Today is yer lucky day."

Cecily raised her eyebrow. She wasn't so sure about that. Considering the major backstabbing she had planned for the extremely powerful pirate captain, she couldn't help but feel she'd have been luckier if Davy Jones hadn't shown his face.

"Oh really?" she asked him, surprisingly calm. "And how do ye reckon that?"

He laughed rather cruelly, considering the fact that he was attempting to offer a helpful service. "Why, isn't it obvious, lassie?" he said. Cecily contemplated telling him off for using the pet name, but thought better of it. "I've come to join yer li'l cause. I'm here to fight."

Cecily raised her eyebrow for a second time. This was not something she had expected, and she had a hard time grasping the fact that Davy Jones was offering to help her. "Ye are, are ye?" she returned. "Well… how 'bout that."

"Ye seem surprised, lassie," he observed, sounding rather dangerous. "Did ye think me certain to be a no-show? Perhaps… ye were _hopin_' I'd be a no-show?"

Cecily snorted. "I ain't got no problem with yer presence here, Davy, darling." He stiffened at the term of endearment, but she ignored him. "All the help I can get, I accept."

He did not look entirely convinced. Cecily immediately understood the reason for Davy Jones' sudden appearance. It wasn't that he wanted to help her and her cause – he wanted to make sure she upheld her end of the bargain. Unfortunately for him – or maybe it was unfortunate for Cecily – she had no intention of doing any such thing.

"That's the answer I wanted to hear, lassie," Davy Jones said with a smirk. At least, Cecily thought it was a smirk. It was hard to tell. Exactly what _did_ a squid look like when it smirked anyway? Davy Jones continued with, "Consider yerself privileged, Captain O'Connor. For the one and only time in my reign, I will follow another – and that other will be ye, lass. Lead the way."

He mock bowed to her. Cecily considered pointing out that she was in fact the _second _person to have authority over him, the first being Lord Beckett, but she didn't get the opportunity. As suddenly as he had appeared, Davy Jones vanished from her ship and returned to the _Flying Dutchman_ to await her orders. Cecily swallowed hard, now ten times more nervous than she had been before. It looked like today was her last day on Earth no matter what the outcome of the battle – if she survived the fight, she was sure to end up in the Locker for all eternity.

However, there was no time for such dreary thoughts. Pushing away her fears, Cecily turned and marched on the helm. "All right, lasses and lads!" she called to her crew. "Man yer positions! We fight!"

* * *

The eight-ship Navy convoy sailed out of the Dominican harbor and hit the open sea. Lord Beckett frowned through his spyglass out the left side of his ship. It appeared that a small group of ships was fast approaching his convoy.

What was particularly odd about this group of ships was the fact that it appeared to be led by the _Bloody Sunrise_, Captain O'Connor's ship, but her fleet seemed considerably smaller. In fact, it appeared that her eight ship fleet had diminished to six.

"Lord Beckett, sir," his first mate said. "What are your orders?"

Beckett ignored him, still frowning at the approaching ships. He didn't particularly care for Cecily O'Connor, but he wasn't so stupid as to think her a fool. There was no way that she would sail into battle against him with even less ships than before after losing to him the first time. "My lord?" his first mate asked again.

"Prepare the ships for battle," he ordered, affecting carelessness. Then he strode casually over to the other side of the ship, fingering his spyglass. To his surprise – or rather, quite the opposite of that – he thought he saw a dark approaching mass coming from this direction as well. He peered through the spyglass, and his suspicions were confirmed. Six more ships were sailing fast towards them.

"Mr. Holgarth," Lord Beckett said. His first mate returned to his side.

"Aye, my lord?"

"It looks as if we can expect cannon fire from both directions, Mr. Holgarth," he announced. "Give the orders to defend on either side."

"Aye, my lord," his first mate nodded, marching off to carry out his master's orders.

Lord Beckett smirked, staring down at the spyglass he fingered in his hands. Unconsciously, he reached up and touched the bandage that had replaced his ear. The woman was full of surprises. Unfortunately, it would not matter in the end.

* * *

Though the sun beat down mercilessly on the gathered ships, it was dark on deck due to the billowing and relentlessly heavy gun smoke. The fire from the cannons was deafening, the sunlight dancing off the clashing swords was blinding, and the air was filled with both war cries, and the cries of dying men.

As the men and women of both the pirate fleet and the Navy convoy fought violently against one another, sweat flying in all directions, with the smell of blood and gunpowder in the air, pirate commodore Cecily O'Connor clanged cutlasses with Navy soldiers with crushing force, fighting her way across the deck of the _Sunrise_, intent on boarding the _Endeavor_. More than one young man fell under the swing of her sword. Streaked with the blood of others and spotted with soot, she eventually crossed to the rail and grabbed hold of an abandoned rope. Cecily swung from her ship across to Beckett's ship, and landed with a bit of a stumble. The fire from the cannons of her own ship rocked the _Endeavor_, sending her sprawling to the deck. A Navy soldier stood over her and brought his sword down towards her head – only to have her swing her own sword up to meet his with equal force. She kicked him in the gut, sending him tripping backwards, and then leapt back to her feet. The soldier charged her with a mighty yell, swinging his sword like a madman; but Cecily whipped her own sword at him with terrifying force, beating back his blows, and slaughtering the young man like a lamb.

He fell to the deck, the blood spurting in all directions. No sooner had she dropped him, but another soldier rushed at her from the side and she was forced to enter into another frenzied swordfight. Heavy, violent blows were exchanged on both sides, and Cecily received a slash on the temple before finally cutting the soldier down, sending him to the floor in a pool of blood.

She rushed towards Lord Beckett's office, but met with an inexhaustible onslaught of men trying to stop her. Cecily killed one man after the other, desperate to find the heart of Davy Jones before anyone else did. If someone else got their hands on it before she did – namely, Jack Sparrow – she wouldn't have a leg to stand on, even if she did win the battle.

* * *

The aforementioned, mildly unstable pirate captain was in fact at that time preparing to leave his ship, the _Black Pearl_, and make his way over to the _Endeavor_, in hopes of recovering the heart before anyone else – namely, Commodore O'Connor. But Jack Sparrow did not make it off his ship. As he rushed for a rope, a sword flew at his head and he barely ducked down in time to escape decapitation.

He blinked up at his assailant and saw the smirking face of Hector Barbossa. "Where ye goin' Jack?" he asked, drawing out the 'a' in his nemesis' name.

Jack smiled, affecting innocence. "Nowhere," he lied.

"Nowhere, is it?" Barbossa returned. "Then why do ye seem in such a hurry to get off me ship, eh? Not after, perhaps, a certain heart of a certain immortal pirate captain?"

"Now, now, mate," Jack said, standing. "It's like ye don't know me at all."

Barbossa scoffed. "No, Jack, I'm afraid 'tis the other way around. I know ye far too well, and the knowledge don't sit too comfortable with me. I know what ye're after – and I think we both know I can't let ye be goin' after it."

"Why ever not?" Jack inquired, attempting to appear confused.

"Now, now, Jack, there's no need to be askin' questions ye already know the answer to," Barbossa replied, stepping closer to the other pirate. "I know yer intentions, and as of now, they won't get ye far. I ain't lettin' ye off this ship, lad, and there's to be no fightin' me on the subject."

"No fightin' ye on the subject?" Jack asked mildly. "I'm afraid that's just not me nature, mate."

Jack drew his sword fast enough to throw Barbossa off guard. However, the element of surprise did little to help him against his worthy opponent. Though surprised, Barbossa still met Jack's sword with equal force, and then pushed it away. "Ah, Jack," he laughed. "Ye won't be beatin' me so easy."

"No," Jack agreed. "I hardly expected to."

Their swords clashed against each other, and the two pirate captains danced back and forth around the deck of the _Black Pearl_. A rare expression of anger momentarily crossed Jack's face as Barbossa forced him into a corner – but Jack soon fought his way out of it. They continued their bloody, violent dance, each attempting to disarm or kill the other, and each failing dismally. It was a beautiful thing to watch, Captain Sparrow and Captain Barbossa fencing, but it was an impossible thing as well. Each captain had met their match, and neither seemed near to either winning or losing.

"Even under the confines of mortality, we seem doomed to fight 'til Judgment day and trumpets sound," Barbossa announced, looking oddly amused by the situation.

"Yes, it is all very unsettling," Jack agreed, wearing a smirk of his own. "I suppose it would be foolish to ask for yer surrender?"

"Extremely so," Barbossa replied.

With this, the two pirate captains became so engrossed in their battle that they quite forgot the violence and the death surrounding them. Their fight took over, and they became oblivious to everything else.

* * *

Lord Beckett stood on deck of his ship, surveying the bloody scene with a proud smirk on his face. It wasn't that his side had not suffered severe losses, because they had. But as long as he held the heart of Davy Jones in his possession, there was no possibility for failure. Eventually, the pirates would be beaten, and his convoy would gain the spoils.

As he thought this, there was a mighty splash from beside the warring armies. Beckett's smirk only grew to witness the arrival of Davy Jones and his _Flying Dutchman_.

"And now, Mr. Halgarth, if you'll watch carefully," he said to the man standing beside him. "Here comes our good friend, Mr. Jones, to turn the tide of battle in our favor. We have as good as won."

No sooner had he said this then the _Dutchman_ opened fire. Beckett's smirk faded. The otherworldly ship had not fired upon the pirates – it had fired upon the ships defending the _Endeavor_.

His heart sank. His stomach jumped. His mouth went dry. There was nothing else to it. Davy Jones had switched sides.

Cold, clammy fear shot all though Lord Beckett's body. And then he realized he still had the heart.

Without so much as a grunt to his first mate, Lord Beckett turned tail and ran for his office. He must, at all costs, protect the heart – or he just might find himself where he had never wanted or expected to be: at the losing end of a horrific battle, and at the mercy of pirates, no less. More than that: he would find himself, undoubtedly, in Davy Jones' locker.

* * *

Cecily pushed her way through the battling soldiers and pirates swarming around her, racing for Lord Beckett's office. Multiple times, some of the soldiers on deck would attempt to stop her advance across the ship, but each time, Cecily quickly dispatched her opponent and continued on to her destination. Finally, she made it to just outside the door.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of light, and swung her sword quickly to meet the one flying at her head. The man wielding it was a Navy officer, with a rather wide nose and a very smug look on his face. Cecily smirked at him, knocking his sword to the side. "Think ye won already, eh?" she asked.

His smug smirk only widened. "Not yet," he replied. "But soon enough."

She snorted, bringing her sword down toward his head. The officer stepped backwards to avoid the blade, and swung his own sword at her abdomen. Cecily knocked it downwards with her weapon, and the two of them began to thrust and parry, dancing around the small space beside Lord Beckett's office. Suddenly, as her opponent rushed at her with his sword held high, she felt someone grab her arm and yank her backwards. Then that same person stepped in front of her and met the officer's blade with his own. James Norrington shoved the officer back, who didn't try to retaliate. He only stared in shock.

"Commodore?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Gilette," Norrington returned, giving him a slight nod.

"They said you'd joined with the pirates," he said, scoffing. "I hadn't believed it before now."

"Believe it, Lieutenant."

"Actually, it's Captain now," he replied.

"James, what the hell are ye doing?" Cecily interjected, rather irritated.

"Go to the office. Get the heart. Stop Beckett," James said. "I will take care of this one. You have more important men to be stabbing, I believe."

A slow smile spread across her face. He smirked. Then Norrington turned back to his former comrade, who was staring at him as though he had lost his mind. He swung his sword at Gilette.

Gilette swung back, and the fight began.

Cecily turned from the scene and rushed inside Lord Beckett's office. At the door, she paused, suddenly nervous. The room was empty.

Slowly, she took a step inside the office. The air sung, and Cecily swiveled to her left by instinct, crushing the sword flying at her head with her own, and slamming it deep into the wood of the door frame.

Swords still crossed, Cecily and her attacker stared at one another. Lord Beckett, although clearly thrown, managed a smug smirk. "Commodore O'Connor," he greeted her. "I wondered when I'd be seeing you."

"Lord Beckett," Cecily returned with a sneer, drawing her sword back towards her.

Beckett yanked his sword out of the doorframe. "Do be careful about the woodwork," he said dryly. "It costs more than the price on your head."

Cecily laughed shortly. "Ye flatter me, Lord Beckett," she returned. "There's a price on me head?"

A small, amused smirk crossed Beckett's face. "Yes. A rather large one, at that. Fortunately, considering the turn of events, there won't be a need for me to be paying it."

"Aye," Cecily agreed. "No one can expect money from a dead man."

He smirked again. Then he took a step forward, his sword pointed at her. Cecily stepped forwards as well, and swung her sword into his. The two of them began banging swords repeatedly, moving rapidly around the office. Cecily's most important fight of the day had begun.

* * *


	29. Heart

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to Brigitte for the review! It was great to hear from one of my readers!

* * *

Chapter 31: Heart

_Clang!_

Beckett's sword met Cecily's sword with crushing force. Cecily knocked away his sword with her own and swiped at his torso. His blade pushed hers downward, away from its intended target. She stepped backwards and Beckett took advantage of her retreat to charge her and ram his sword towards her abdomen. Cecily darted off to the side, cursing. She was on the defensive now. He raced at her and she rushed backwards around his desk. Swinging her sword angrily, she leapt forwards at him, taking him by surprise. A dodge to the side just barely saved his one remaining ear. Cecily took full advantage of his surprise and kept coming at him, her sword flying viciously in all directions. Beckett was thrown off and barely managed to block and dodge, moving backwards rapidly. His foot caught his chair, and he stumbled, hitting the floor. Cecily dashed forward, her sword angled to penetrate his chest, but was stopped by his foot in her stomach. She flew backwards, landing with a crash in one of his many bookshelves. Beckett jumped to his feet, and raced towards her.

Before he could use his weapon on her, Cecily rolled off to the side and leapt to her feet. Beckett turned on her, and she held him off by the point of her sword. For a moment, the two of them danced about unproductively, and then Beckett took a chance, leaping forward and swiping his sword at her face. Cecily stumbled back, saving her face but not her chest. His blade caught her at the shoulder, and slashed a long slit in her shirt and in her skin. Blood seeped out in a long straight line from her shoulder and past her collarbone. Beckett smirked.

"I seem to have the advantage, Commodore," he said.

Cecily laughed at him. "Don't be ridiculous. That's nothin' but a surface wound." Saying this, she lunged at him, and Beckett hopped backwards, barely dodging the point of her sword.

The two of them clanged swords repeatedly, still prancing about the office. Cecily's blade caught him at the fingers, causing him to drop his weapon. Blood spurted from his hand. Cecily leapt forward, swinging her sword at his neck. Beckett ducked, hitting the floor, and grabbed her ankle. With a mighty tug, he knocked her off her feet. Cecily instinctively rolled over on her side as he scrambled back from her, snatching his lost sword. She sat up as his sword swung into her skull. Cecily managed to duck the worst of the blow, but still got a slash on the side of her head. Beckett brought his sword down on top of hers, knocking it from her hand, and then stood up, swinging his heavy boot into her temple.

She fell sideways to the floor. He stood over her, a slight smirk on his face. His sword tore through her shirt, ripping open her sleeve by the elbow, and cutting through her torso. Although the wound seemed deep, Cecily doubted it had done any serious damage. His knee stabbed her in the stomach, and she grunted with pain despite herself. He squeezed her throat in one hand, jerking her face up to his own. Then he dropped her violently on the floor after she unexpectedly slugged him in the side of the head. Beckett tumbled sideways.

Cecily kicked him off her, grabbing hold of her sword and stumbling to her feet. The sword came crashing down towards Beckett's head, and he rolled out of the way, standing up awkwardly. He was weaponless. Cecily charged him, but he grabbed a hold of the desk chair and threw it at her. The furniture hit her hard in the chest and knocked her to the floor. Cecily barely managed to hold onto her sword as she hit the ground. Painfully, she struggled to shove the chair off of her, and tried to sit up, gasping for the air that the impact had knocked out of her. Beckett, grabbing his lost sword, moved in for the kill.

Her sword flew up to meet his with surprising force, stopping him just before he stabbed her through the throat. Then she kicked him in the stomach, sending him toppling backwards. Her hand closed around the leg of the chair lying beside her. As Beckett sat up, sword in hand, and lunged forward at her, she swung the chair up and into his face. Beckett flew to the side, hitting the desk violently, and dropping to the floor. Bruised and bloodied, he sat up, spitting out one solitary tooth. Cecily lunged forwards, her sword aimed for his heart – but he blocked her blade just enough that the cutlass pierced deep within his shoulder instead. She yanked it out of his skin, giving the sword a vicious twist as she did so, and smirking with satisfaction as he hollered in pain. Then she attempted the fatal blow a second time. Beckett managed to roll out of the way. He scrambled to his feet, holding his sword unsteadily, and clutching the desk beside him for support. Cecily, in all honesty, was not faring much better. Her entire body was sore, her breath was difficult to draw, and she was bleeding from her head and her torso.

Both Beckett and Cecily lunged forward at the same time. They clashed swords for a few moments, and then Cecily gave him a sharp kick in the shins. Already unstable on his feet, Beckett toppled to the floor. Cecily kicked his hand as hard as she could, and the sword flew from his grasp. Then she lifted her sword high up over her head, holding it in both hands, and plunged it down deep within his chest.

Beckett gave a cry of pain that was half gasp and half squeal. Blood blossomed all around the blade of the sword, soaking through his expensive shirt. Cecily twisted the sword around inside his chest, and then yanked it backwards, out of his flesh. He gave another cry of agony. Cecily bent over and grasped the collar of his shirt in her hands, jerking him up in a sitting position. She leaned over him, her lips close to his only remaining ear. "Thank ye fer the opportunity to fulfill me dearest wish," she drawled into his ear. "I was just so afraid I'd ne'er get to see ye die."

Then she dropped him back to the floor unceremoniously. He hit the ground with a loud thud. Beckett stared up at her, desperately trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, he coughed, and his blood flew up and out of his mouth, splattering on her cheek.

Cecily brushed it away, apparently unaffected by the gore. Then Beckett's gasps for air stopped, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She nudged him in the side with the toe of her boot and received no response. The great Lord Cutler Beckett was dead.

She sheathed her bloody sword and looked around the room. Her vision blurred momentarily, and she grabbed the desk before her to steady herself. As her vision came back into focus, her eyes fell on the corner of the room where Beckett had appeared at the very beginning of the battle. A very small door, much like the door on a cupboard, was slightly open. Cecily limped over to the open door. If the door had been closed, she doubted she would have ever noticed it. It was modeled to blend in with the wood of the wall. She opened it all the way, finding a large, ornate looking chest.

She hefted it out of the cubbyhole, grimacing with its weight, and lugged it over to the desk, where she dropped it heavily on the desktop. It was obviously locked, and Cecily looked around the room again, biting her lip. Where would Beckett have hidden the key?

On his person, of course. She bent over Beckett's corpse, and began to rifle through his pockets. Suddenly, a black rope tied around his neck caught her eye. It was old and cheap looking, so Cecily had a hard time believing he'd be wearing it if it wasn't important for some reason. She hooked her little finger under the rope and pulled it out from where it was hiding under Beckett's white shirt. At the end of it was a long, black, ancient-looking key.

Cecily jerked the rope from around his neck. She returned to the chest and inserted the key in the lock. It fit. She gave it a turn and the chest unlocked. Slowly, she opened the chest and peered curiously within.

Despite herself, she gagged slightly. A large, pink, veiny heart sat in the corner of the chest. As she stared at it, it thumped loudly, shaking the chest. She had found it. Cecily had found Davy Jones' heart.

As she stared at the beating heart, she found her resolve weaken. The innocently beating heart sat there in the open, completely vulnerable. Without even realizing it, Cecily drew her dagger from its home in her boot. She fingered it anxiously, watching greedily as the heart continued to thump. Raising the dagger threateningly, she prepared to stab it through the organ.

Suddenly, as though awaking from a trance, Cecily realized what she was doing. She was so surprised, she dropped her dagger, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. "What the bloody hell do I think I'm doing?" she whispered to herself.

For a moment, she stood there, staring at the beating heart in the open chest, unsure how to proceed. She found herself glancing over at the fallen dagger almost longingly. If she stabbed the heart… as captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, she would have unlimited power. She'd have control of the seas, control of the men who sailed them, and she'd have immortality. If she stabbed the heart, she would be the most feared and famous pirate on the seas. If she stabbed the heart, she would live forever.

A pang of fear shot all through her body. Cecily tried to ignore it – she hated feeling afraid – but it persisted. A shiver traveled down her spine. All men feared death to some extent; that was just facts. If she stabbed the heart, then…

Her train of thought was interrupted by another shiver of fear. Suddenly, Cecily realized what the matter was. As much as she may or may not fear death, she feared living forever much more.

It was kind of a silly thing to be afraid of, she thought to herself. But in that moment, it became quite clear to Cecily that the last thing she wanted was immortality. Her resolve strengthened, she slammed the chest shut and locked it once again. Then she pocketed the key and returned her dagger to the sheath in her boot.

She glanced over at Beckett's body. From outside the office, she could hear the battle raging on. They could keep fighting – after all, they had the Navy ships outnumbered, and they had Davy Jones on their side. There was no way the Navy ships could win now, especially now that Cecily had the heart.

But if they slaughtered every last one of those soldiers out there, well… then Norrington and Matthews could never return to their positions in the Navy.

Cecily nearly took her own temperature. What stopped her was the fact that she had no way of doing any such thing. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly had brought that thought on. What did she care if Norrington and Matthews got kicked out of the King's Navy? It was no skin off her nose, really. Why should she help them, and for nothing in return?

The answer was obvious, but Cecily tried her best to ignore it. The thought she had formed in her head persisted, however, and finally she had to acknowledge it. Norrington and Matthews had done her a great service by joining her fleet when she needed troops. Both of them had probably been the most loyal out of all the captains in her fleet, and while Norrington had been known to question her authority, he had also been known to, well… never mind.

Cecily sighed. All right, that was it then. She was going to have to end this battle now if she wanted to help the two Navy officers regain their positions. And despite the fact that everything in her told her she was crazy, she really did want to help them.

Cecily bit her lip, a plan forming in her head. She unsheathed her sword, and strode over to Beckett's corpse. Kneeling on the floor, she removed his wig and hat from his head and grasped his hair tightly in her hand. Then she sawed through his neck with her sword, not stopping until she had completely severed his head from his body.

She sheathed her sword and tucked the chest under her arm. Grasping Beckett's head by his hair, she stormed through the office doors and shoved her way through the battle raging outside, forcing her way up the stairs and to the helm. She slammed the chest into the head of the man at the wheel, and he toppled sideways, falling unconscious to the deck. Already, the sight of her carrying a head had drawn quite a bit of attention to Cecily, and many of the men had stopped fighting to stare at the pirate commodore. She leapt up where everyone could see her and drew her pistol – rather awkwardly, considering the amount of stuff she was already carrying – and fired it up into the air, bellowing, "Look up here, lassies! Yer lord's been sent to meet his!"

She hefted the head up high above her own, waving it for all to see. Everyone around her slowly began to lower their weapons and turn to stare at her. Beckett's men looked positively ill. In all fairness, so did many of Cecily's troops. As things aboard the _Endeavor_ slowly quieted, the quiet began to spread to the other ships in the vicinity.

Cecily tossed the head down into the throng below her. The men standing where she'd aimed leapt back to avoid the gruesome missile. They stared at her in horror and disgust. She found, oddly enough, that this didn't bother her in the least. "Yer Lord Beckett is dead, lassies," she repeated. "Now drop yer weapons and surrender to yer conquerors, or I'll be forced to give ye all the same treatment!"

Lord Beckett's first mate dashed up the stairs to meet her, fury in his eyes. "We will never surrender!" he shouted, going for his sword.

Cecily's response was a heavy fist to the side of his face. The man fell to the deck. In all truthfulness, the maneuver had surprised Cecily as much as the people around her. Her reaction had been pure instinct. The man stared up at her in shock. She cocked her pistol and pointed it at him, waving the chest in his face. At the sight of the chest, all the men gasped. "Surrender," she repeated. "Or face the Locker."

All around her, men were beginning to drop their swords and pistols. Her crewmen were looking more and more cheerful by the moment. The _Endeavor_'s first mate stared at her, disgust in his eyes. Finally, he announced, "We surrender."

"What's that, darling?" Cecily asked, leaning closer and grinning cheekily. "Speak up so e'eryone can hear ye."

"We surrender!" he shouted, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Ye hear that?" she thundered. "They surrender! Lasses and lads, round 'em all up. No one dies unless they try somethin' funny, ye hear me?"

Slowly, the order circulated around to all the ships. From her place at the helm of the _Endeavor_, Cecily could see the Navy men of Beckett's fleet being more or less peacefully subdued. For a moment, Cecily stared at the sight before her with disbeleif. Her ragtag pirate fleet had actually won the battle. Beckett's reign was over.

She surveyed the deck of the _Endeavor_. "I've been known to be merciful be'ore," she shouted. "So don't push me, and ye'll all live. Lasses and lads, escort these men to the brig, and prepare to tow these ships!"

"Aye, aye!" was heard all around the ship, and the ships closest to the _Endeavor_. Again, the order was circulated throughout the entire fleet. Cecily jumped down from where she had been standing, watching carefully as her crewmen gathered up the crew of the _Endeavor_ and began hustling them below. She strode over to one of the many boarding planks, swinging the chest from her right hand. Norrington, who had taken Gillette prisoner, passed the captain over to one of Cecily's other crewmen and intercepted her. "You look terrible," he announced.

Cecily supposed he was right. She was covered in dirt, bleeding in three places, and most likely pretty bruised as well. On top of this, she was still having slight difficulty breathing. In all likeliness, Beckett's little trick with the chair had probably broken a rib or two. Still, no one wants to hear they look terrible.

She surveyed the Navy man. He, too, was very dirty, and also bleeding in a few places. "Ye don't look so good yerself," she returned cheekily.

Norrington smirked, rather ruefully. Then he switched subjects. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

Cecily blinked up at him. "What does it look like?" she returned.

"It looks like you're showing the Navy men mercy, and not killing them all," he replied. "And while I certainly am glad about that, I'm curious as to the sudden kindness."

She smirked at him. "What? Ye don't think I can be kind?" With that, she left Norrington standing on deck of the _Endeavor_, looking after her with bewilderment.

As she boarded the _Sunrise,_ she saw Will Turner fighting his way across the _Pearl _towards her ship. If she hadn't been looking for him, she probably wouldn't have noticed his efforts. At least the lad understood the concept of subtlety.

She strode across the deck of her ship towards her office. Marjorie was standing close by the office door, shouting orders concerning the prisoners taken aboard the _Sunrise_. "Marjorie," Cecily barked as she passed her first mate. "Send for Captain Barbossa. Tell him he's wanted in me office."

"Aye, Cap'n," Marjorie returned, giving her a nod. Cecily entered her office and closed the door behind her.

Cecily sat the chest on her desktop, breathing out rather shakily. A quick glance out her window told her that Davy Jones and his ship had disappeared beneath the sea once again. She wasn't surprised. Undoubtedly, he had opted to recruit his prisoners into his crew rather than follow orders. Cecily supposed this was only fair. She had, after all, opted to give his heart to someone else, and present yet another person with the opportunity to stab it.

Still, she was nervous. She had no idea when Jones would appear on her ship, looking to collect her debt. If only Barbossa or Turner would hurry up and come for the heart before the immortal pirate captain did, then she would feel more at ease.

She looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide the chest. Settling on her bookshelf, she strode over to the furniture in question and began removing books and knickknacks to make room for the chest.

As she did this, she heard a slight noise. Freezing, she placed the book she had just removed from the shelf back where she'd taken it from. Then, fingering her pistol, she turned towards the sound.

_Thud!_ Something huge and heavy collided with Cecily's skull. Pain exploded throughout her head. Then her vision swam and faded to black, and she crumpled to the floor.

* * *


	30. Betrayal

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. I will not profit off this story. You will not sue me because of this story (right?)

Rating: M

AN: Thank you for the review, pirate hero!

* * *

Chapter 32: Betrayal

Cecily was only unconscious for a second, but it was long enough. As she became aware of her surroundings again, she felt someone grab her roughly by the arm and roll her over on her back. She was mildly confused for a moment as to why someone was taking her belt off – and then she realized the dim, blurry figure standing over her was disarming her. There was a loud clunk as the belt landed somewhere out of her reach. Cecily reached for her dagger, but a heavy boot stomped down hard on her hand, crushing it into the floor. She cried out in pain. The person standing on her hand reached down into her boot and took her dagger as well.

Cecily blinked, trying desperately to focus her swimming vision. Her head was pounding, and it was all she could do not to moan in agony. Slowly, the figure before her began to focus. Cecily frowned in confusion. "Nate?" she asked.

Nathaniel Easton smirked down at her, the chest containing Davy Jones' heart swinging from one of his hands. He was still standing on her hand. "Cecily," he replied, rather mockingly.

Cecily stared at the chest in his hand. Bright red, new spilt blood shone at her from the corner of the large chest. She reached up and touched her temple very gently. When she pulled her hand back, her fingers were covered in blood.

She redirected her stare towards Easton's face. "What the hell are ye doin' Nate?" she asked warily.

His smirk grew wider. "What, ye can't tell?" he returned. "I'm takin' the heart of Davy Jones for meself."

He stepped off her hand and moved closer towards her. "All I need is the key," he continued. "And ye'll never have to see me again. Come to think of it, ye probably won't have to see _anyone_ ever again after Jones is through with ye."

Cecily glared at him. "Such a shifty-eyed, two-faced lad," she snarled, albeit rather breathlessly. "Here I was thinkin' ye were a decent fella deep down. Looks like maybe I was wrong."

"Ye don't get it, do ye?" he snapped. "This is all fer ye, luv. Ye don't know what ye did to me. Ye made me this. Years of trailin' after ye like some lovesick puppy dog only to be shown the door time and time again, while ye fucked whoever the hell it pleased ye to at the moment – ye turned me into something horrible, Cecily. Ye got only yerself to blame."

Cecily snorted. "Don't give me that shite," she retorted, although her voice was rather weak. "Ain't no one responsible fer ye but ye, Easton, and the sooner ye learn that, the farther ye'll get."

Easton shrugged. "I want the key," he demanded.

"Well, why don't ye take it, then, like ye took everything else," she replied. "I ain't about to give it up willingly."

He sneered, but he made no move. "What's the matter, lad?" she asked. "Ye lose yer nerve? Now that's no way to be. What are ye goin' to do when it comes time to be stabbin' that there heart? Or usin' it as leverage o'er Davy Jones? I assume ye meant to do one o' the two. Ye goin' to choke then too?"

Easton's face got rather ugly. "I realize it's difficult fer ye to grasp the concept of _not_ bein' the one in charge, but ye ought to remember who's on the floor bleedin' from the head, and who's still standing, carryin' the heart of Davy Jones. Give me the key, or I'm goin' to kill ye."

"Really, Nate?" she simpered mockingly. "Ye're goin' to kill me? Is that how ye treat all the women ye're madly, desperately in love with?"

"I'm not in love with ye," he snapped.

"Aw, ye got o'er me so quickly, then? If I'd felt anythin' fer ye, I think I'd be hurt. Is yer love always so false, or am I just lucky?"

The chest fell to the floor with a heavy thud. "Shut up," he growled, bending over her and grabbing her by the throat.

Cecily kicked him, and he fell to his knees. Her fist swung up to meet his temple, but he caught her wrist in his available hand, viciously twisting her arm. She gave a cry of pain, and attempted to kick him off her. He ignored the thrashing of her legs, grabbing hold of her other wrist and pinning her arms over her head. "Ye don't understand," he snarled. "I'm through with ye, Cecily. Or, at least, I'm about to be. Once more ought to do the trick."

She attempted to sit up and fight back, but found herself too weak from the blow to her head. As she collapsed back to the ground, Easton let go of one of her wrists, his hand traveling to her pants. Cecily twisted her body violently, smacking him in the side of the head with her newly freed hand. Furious, he propelled his fist hard into her broken ribs. Cecily fell limp, gasping for breath.

He backhanded her across the face, snapping her head to the side. His hot, moist lips came down heavily on hers. Cecily bit him, and he jerked his head back, blood trickling down his chin. Cussing, he angrily backhanded her across the face a second time. His hand grasped at her breast, traveling forcefully down her torso, once again heading for her pants. Cecily kicked him and struggled fiercely, smacking him around the face. Easton seized her wrists, pinning them above her head. Cecily continued to struggle, small screams escaping her lips in spite of herself. He fought back viciously, again hitting her in her broken ribs. Her moment of weakness was all he needed to gain the upper hand once again. But before he could make a move, he was lifted bodily up off her and tossed into a wall.

Cecily gaped at the sight before her, completely surprised. She hadn't heard anyone come into the room. But Easton hit the office wall, attempted to get to his feet, and was immediately punched in the face by Norrington.

She only allowed herself a moment of gawking, before she forced herself to act. Ignoring the pain in her head and her ribs, she rolled over on her side and tried to sit up as Easton and Norrington exchanged punches nearby. Her vision swam and she began to draw her breath raggedly, but still she reached for her holsters laying close by on the floor. Finally, she got a hold of her pistol and turned back to Norrington and Easton. James was punching Easton in the face, and Easton was squeezing him around the neck. "James!" she thundered at him. "Move!"

Surprised at the command, Norrington let go of Easton and stepped aside, looking at her incredulously. Easton's head snapped up, and he stared at her in shock – but only for a moment before Cecily pulled the trigger and burned a bullet hole between his eyes.

Easton slumped sideways to the floor, dead. Cecily's pistol slipped from her hand and she fell back to the floor, breathing hard. James quickly approached her and knelt at her side. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

She nodded, wincing. Her attempt to sit up failed miserably and James grasped her around the waist, hauling her into a sitting position. "Get off me," she said, trying to shove him away. He rolled his eyes, ignoring her command.

"You are a mess," he announced. She would have given him a dirty look if she hadn't been so preoccupied with her breathing. James pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the huge bleeding gash on her head. "I better go get Piper," he murmured.

Cecily shrugged him off, waving him away. "I'm fine," she insisted.

The look he gave her made it clear he didn't believe her for a moment. "You can barely breathe," he returned.

She ignored him, blinking hard in an attempt to focus her still swimming vision. James draped her arm around his shoulder and slid his arm under her legs. Before he could lift her from the ground, she smacked him in the chest, attempting to shrug him off. "Don't," she ordered. "I'm fine, damn it. There's no need fer that. Let me go."

He rolled his eyes but complied with her demand. She grasped his shoulder in a painfully tight grip and slowly tried to stand. James stood with her as she straightened, swaying slightly on her feet. One step and her knees buckled. He grabbed her around the waist, seizing one of her arms and attempting to help her to her desk chair. Cecily attempted to squirm away. "I'm fine," she snapped.

"Oh, you are not!" James snapped back, exasperated. "Would you just let me help you?"

She sighed in frustration, but stopped resisting him as he supported her to the chair and lowered her into the seat. He bent over her and pressed the handkerchief back against the gash. The blood had already streaked her hair and stained her cheek. Cecily was determinedly not looking at him. For the third time, he rolled his eyes. She was being ridiculous. "Where else are you hurt?" he asked.

"It's nothing."

James poked her very gently in the ribs, but it was enough to make her gasp in pain. "What the bloody hell is wrong with ye, ye bastard!" she exclaimed.

He lifted up her shirt and very gently felt around her chest. "Easton broke your ribs too, I see," he murmured.

"Actually, no," Cecily replied carelessly. "I have Beckett to thank fer that one."

James shook his head, straightening her shirt. "You, my dear, are falling apart."

"Cap'n? What's goin' on?"

Both Norrington and Cecily looked up in surprise. Keely was standing in the doorway, looking surprised and rather fearful. "Nothin' Keely, darling, don't worry about it," Cecily replied.

James snorted. "Actually, Keely, that's not true. Would you mind fetching Piper? Your captain's been injured, and she's being very stubborn about admitting it."

"Belay that!" Cecily intervened, turning to Keely. "I'm fine. The doctor's not necessary."

James rolled his eyes. "Ignore her," he said. "Get Piper."

Keely looked uncertain. Cecily turned all the way around to look at Keely. "Ignore _him_, I'm fine…"

"Oh my God!" Keely exclaimed. "Cecily! Your face!"

"And her ribs," Norrington added.

"It's nothing," Cecily said to Keely. Then she turned to Norrington. "And would ye shut up?" she added.

"I'll go get Piper," Keely announced. Then, on her way out the door, she stopped and asked, "Is that Easton?"

Both Cecily and Norrington turned to look at the body on the floor. "Aye," Cecily replied. "Uh… don't tell anyone about that, eh?"

"Of course not," Keely agreed. "I'll be back with Piper."

She ducked out the door, ignoring Cecily's grumbling. James continued applying pressure to her head wound. Cecily continued determinedly not looking at him. Suddenly, James announced, "I know why you did that."

Cecily finally looked at him. "What are ye goin' on about?"

"I know why you convinced them to surrender, rather than slaughter them all," he replied. "You could have slaughtered them, if you'd wanted to. There was no hope of them winning. But you chose not to, because you knew that this way, I'd have a better chance of convincing my superiors that I was _stopping_ treason rather than committing it. You did it so Lawrence and I could get our jobs back."

Cecily snorted and looked away from him again. "Prove it," she retorted.

He smiled. "Thank you."

Her face softened. A moment of silence passed, and then Cecily announced, "As far as anyone knows, if Easton died today, he died in battle."

Norrington looked up in surprise. Cecily continued with, "The only people who need to know different are me crew, and all they need to know is that Easton betrayed us. What ye walked in on stays between ye and me."

Slowly, Norrington lowered his eyes and nodded. "Of course," he agreed.

Cecily paused. Then she said, "Thank ye, though. Fer… with him… and… well, thank ye."

James nodded again. "You're welcome."

She glanced at him fleetingly out of the corner of her eye. He stared steadily at her. "But ye know," she went on, smirking a little. "Fer the record? The next time ye go marchin' in somewhere tryin' to be the white knight, ye may want to try rememberin' ye got a sword and pistol. What the hell were ye thinking, hittin' him in the face? Goin' to try to kill him with yer bare hands?"

James laughed softly. "I don't know," he murmured ruefully. "I… I really don't know what I was thinking. I just…" He trailed off and shrugged.

Cecily smirked again, and caught his eye. He stared at her, and Cecily's smirk faded. For a moment, they just looked at one another, and then Norrington dropped his blood soaked handkerchief on the floor and grabbed her face in his hands. Cecily's arms circled around his neck as his lips came down on hers. James leaned into her, opening her mouth with his tongue, and Cecily kissed him back furiously, clutching at him in order to maintain her balance in the chair. His hand tangled itself in her hair, her legs wrapped around his waist, and their kiss intensified as…

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both Cecily and James jumped, pulling apart rather guiltily. Piper stood in the doorway, her eyebrow raised and her arms crossed in front of her chest. "No," Cecily replied. "Nothing at all."

Piper frowned at the pirate captain. "Cecily, you look horrible," she announced, shaking her head. The ship's doctor crossed the office and joined James on the floor by her patient's chair. Out came the bandages, the needle and thread, and the medicinal solutions. Cecily sighed heavily as Piper began cleaning the gash on her forehead. "Don't even start," Piper said sternly. "You are a mess, and I am going to clean you up whether you like it or not."

Cecily fell silent, although the look on her face made it clear how she felt about the situation. Keely poked her head around the door, making a face. "Keely!" Cecily bellowed at her. "Get in here and help Norrington with the body, eh? I want it tossed o'er the side!"

"Aye, Cap'n," Keely agreed, although she didn't look thrilled about the prospect. "What exactly are we supposed to tell his crew?"

"Not a damn thing," Cecily returned. "What they don't know won't hurt 'em."

Keely looked skeptical. "It'll be better fer e'eryone if they think he died fighting," Cecily added.

Her crewman nodded. "How _did_ he die?" she asked.

"Captain Easton here thought he was goin' to betray us and walk away with the heart o' Davy Jones," Cecily replied. "He thought wrong."

Keely didn't ask anymore questions after that. She helped Norrington lift the heavy corpse off the office floor and carry it out the door.

Piper sighed, stitching up the gash on her forehead. "Is there any reason you found it necessary to slobber all over the Commodore's face when you have broken ribs and you're bleeding from the head?"

"Shut up, Piper," Cecily snapped.

"Commodore O'Connor?"

Cecily looked up at the sound of her name, which caused Piper to sigh in irritation as her work was interrupted. Will Turner stood breathless in the office door. "Ah, Mr. Turner," Cecily smirked. "Good timing. Anyone see ye make yer way o'er here?"

Will shook his head in the negative. "No. No one."

"Well, good. Where is Captain Barbossa?"

Will shrugged. "Last I saw, he was still on the _Pearl_, fighting with Jack over where to stash the prisoners on board the ship, and completely ignoring your first mate's attempts to get his attention."

"Perfect," Cecily rolled her eyes. "Have a seat behind the screen."

Will ducked behind the Japanese screen in her office. Piper grabbed a hold of Cecily's chin and forced her head back the other direction in order to finish her stitches. Cecily sighed. "Barbossa better get here be'ore Jones does," she grumbled. "Or I'm lettin' Turner have the heart entirely."

"I just hope the squid man lets me wrap your broken ribs and finish these stitches before he send you to the Locker," Piper returned.

Cecily glared at her. "Thanks fer the confidence, Piper. Ye've really set me mind at ease."

* * *


	31. Tricking the Devil

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: I have no rights to POTC. This story is for personal enjoyment only and not for profit. Please don't sue.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to pirate hero for the review!

* * *

Chapter 33: Tricking the Devil

Piper had only just gathered up her supplies and left Cecily's office when the door swung open and Captain Barbossa swaggered into the room. Cecily was leaning back in her chair with her feet swung up on the desk when the other pirate captain entered, and she grinned wide and fake for Barbossa as he strode up to the desk. "Captain Barbossa," she greeted him. "Ye sure took yer sweet time gettin' here, didn't ye?"

Barbossa smirked. "Terribly sorry to have kept ye waiting, Commodore," he drawled. "But there were matters of grave importance that required me attention on board me vessel."

"I'm sure there were," Cecily replied, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "I, however, had matters o' grave importance o' me own to deal with, and I am sure they were more pressin' than yers. When I send fer ye, ye are to come. Immediately. Do we understand one another?"

Barbossa scoffed. "Apologies, Commodore. But in light of recent developments, I'd think it safe to say that ye are no longer the head of a fleet. Battle's done, _Cecily_, and I believe the agreement was to disband upon victory."

Her eye twitched in a threatening manner. "Victory is contingent on gettin' the prisoners to shore without an uprising, _Hector_, and until ye are sailin' off and leavin' me ship far behind, Sao Feng in tow, ye are still a member o' me fleet. Am I clear?"

He sneered. "As crystal, m'lady."

She glowered at him, but ignored the swipe. "Ye recall the details o' our arrangement, correct?"

He nodded slowly. "I take Sao Feng to Calypso, and I stab the heart. In return, I get the heart, and the _Pearl_."

Cecily nodded. "Exactly, Captain Barbossa, darling." She reached under her desk and hauled the ornate chest off the office floor, setting it down before him. Barbossa eyed it greedily.

"The heart?" he inquired distrustfully.

She nodded. "Go ahead, darling," she said, tossing the key at him. He caught the key in one hand. "Open her up, and give her a look."

Barbossa could not contain the excited smile that crossed his face as he inserted the key in the lock and gave it a twist. Lifting the heavy lid, his eyes brightened at what lay inside the chest.

Thumping away rather ominously in the corner of the chest was the large, veiny pink heart of Davy Jones. Barbossa shut the chest and smirked at Cecily. "Thank ye, Commodore," he said. "I'll be takin' this back to me ship."

"Don't ye want to give it a stab?" she asked.

He laughed. "And lose the only leverage I have left? Not a chance, Commodore. Yer heart will be gettin' a stab when and only if ye take care o' me irritatin' li'l co-captain. I want Sparrow off me ship. I won't stab the heart 'til it's done."

Cecily smirked. "I figured as much."

Barbossa stood, the chest tucked under his arm. "I'll be headin' back to me ship now, Commodore," he announced. "I trust Sparrow will be off me ship before long?"

She shrugged. "Whenever the opportunity arises, Barbossa. I ain't in no hurry."

"Then ye're a fool," he said simply, turning and leaving the office.

"Ye better hurry yer arse up, lad," Cecily announced the moment the door shut behind Barbossa. Will Turner darted out from behind her Japanese screen, gave Cecily a hurried nod of thanks, and raced after the pirate captain.

She sighed heavily. Will better be quick about his mission, or she was going to end up food for the Kraken.

* * *

Will snuck quietly along behind Barbossa, who didn't seem to notice his shadow as he walked as unobtrusively as possible back to the _Pearl_. None of the people milling about the ships paid any attention to the pirate captain and his newly received chest – nor did they spare Will Turner even a passing glance.

Barbossa strode across a boarding plank. Will snatched hold of a rope and swung over to the _Pearl_. He landed heavily at the helm and had to duck down very quickly to avoid Barbossa's eyes when he glanced around for the source of the heavy thump.

Apparently not noticing Will, Barbossa continued the trek to his office. Will dashed to the back off the ship and began the slow treacherous climb down to the huge windows in Barbossa's office. He had only just gotten himself situated in a spot that was fairly inconspicuous, but from where he could also see the interior of the room, when he saw the office door swing open. Captain Barbossa strode into the office, his monkey leaping from his shoulder and prancing across the room. Barbossa approached his desk and set the chest down on top of it. Will watched with anticipation as Barbossa opened the chest and stared greedily into it.

Will tensed, suddenly unsure. Was Barbossa actually going to do it? Was he going to stab the heart?

Apparently not. Instead, the pirate captain threw his head back and let out one of his trademark evil laughs. Will bit his lip. How was he going to get inside the office? He needed Barbossa to leave, and he needed him to leave now.

Just as Will began planning ways to distract the pirate, there was a mighty splash. Will ducked away from the window, narrowly avoiding being seen by the startled and curious Barbossa. A glance out over the sea revealed that the _Flying Dutchman_ had surfaced beside the _Bloody Sunrise_. He bit his lip again. Commodore O'Connor was about to be in a lot of trouble.

Will turned back to the window, rather hesitantly peeking back inside the office. Barbossa was storming back out of the room, his monkey trailing close behind. Will was nothing short of ecstatic to see the chest still lying open on the desktop.

His father's knife between his teeth, Will gave the large window a mighty kick, shattering the glass. Knocking out enough glass in order to squeeze inside the office, Will leapt into the room and made his way to the chest, a grin slowly crossing his face. Finally, his promise to his father was going to be upheld. Will was going to kill Davy Jones – and set his father free.

* * *

The extremely loud splash had alerted Cecily to the arrival of Davy Jones as well. Wincing, she glanced out her window. Sure enough, the _Dutchman_ was right next door to her ship. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. What the hell was taking Turner so bloody long?

She braced herself and walked out the office door, head high. Norrington and Keely, finished with their gruesome errand, stood outside the door, staring at the newly arrived ship with apprehension. Marjorie, from the other side of the ship, was giving her captain a rather fearful look.

Cecily tried to step out into the sunlight, but Norrington's shoulder knocked her back. She stared up at him. The Navy Commodore looked down at her, his face reflecting something she supposed resembled concern. She held his gaze. "Maybe…" he said finally. "Maybe you should go back inside your office."

A slow smile formed on Cecily's face. "And do what, James? Hide underneath me desk?" The smile faded from her lips and she turned away from Norrington. "I somehow don't think that's goin' to work."

With that, she marched determinedly out on deck. Just as she stepped out into the open, Davy Jones appeared very suddenly on board the _Sunrise_.

"Why, Davy Jones!" she greeted him, swaggering over to the fish-faced pirate captain. "What a pleasant surprise! I thought fer sure I'd seen the last o' ye when ye disappeared followin' the surrender."

Jones narrowed his bleary blue eyes at the rather cheeky pirate woman. "Disappear without collectin' yer debt, lassie? Don't be so naïve. I ain't never let anyone slip out o' a bargain before."

Cecily smirked. "Silly me."

Jones limped towards her on his wooden leg in a menacing manner. "So, my dear Commodore O'Connor," he drawled dangerously. "What exactly have ye done with me property? I've been awaitin' me heart with bated breath."

She glanced down at the deck, affecting an abashed pose. "Yes, well, about yer heart, Davy, darling," she sighed heavily. "I'm afraid yer vagrant organ slipped through me fingers and took refuge with another."

The expression on Davy Jones' face was enough to terrify a weaker person than Cecily to death. As it was, Cecily could not help the twinge of fear she felt at his murderous face. "And with who did me 'vagrant organ,' as ye call it, take refuge?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Cecily saw Captain Barbossa watching the scene from the deck of the _Pearl_. "It was Captain Barbossa!" she cried, attempting to sound teary. She pressed her hand against her mouth and looked to the deck with a sniffle. "I tried to stop him, truly I did, but he was just too darn strong fer me!"

Barbossa froze in place. Jones cast a dark look over at the _Pearl_, and made eye contact with the other pirate captain. Barbossa tried to back into his office, but two fish-faced men from Davy Jones' crew appeared behind him and grabbed him by the arms.

The sea-wizened old pirate was escorted onto the _Sunrise_. "Oh, good, ye caught him!" Cecily exclaimed. "Ye don't know how it ate me up inside, knowin' that…"

"Silence!" Jones thundered at her. Cecily immediately shut up, freezing in place. "If ye think I believe fer a moment that ye didn't have somethin' to do with this, ye are sadly misled, Commodore O'Connor! I somehow find it hard to believe that anyone could have wrestled me heart away from ye unless ye handed it over!"

Cecily winced. Davy Jones raged on, "Don't ye try to pull the wool o'er _me_ eyes, lassie! I warned ye before! I am the sea, and I am death! Ye don't play games with the likes o' me!"

Saying this, Jones turned on Barbossa. "Where is it!" he thundered.

Barbossa affected innocence in his reply. "Whatever do ye mean?"

The claw of Davy Jones fastened itself around Barbossa's neck. "Ye know what!" Jones bellowed. "Where is me heart, Captain Barbossa? Ye have five seconds to tell me before I saw right through yer throat!"

Barbossa winced. "Now, now, no need fer that," he murmured in a pacifying tone. "Yer heart sits in me office, completely unharmed. If ye'd like it back…"

"Take Captain Barbossa back to his office and retrieve me heart!" Jones ordered the two crewmen restraining the other pirate captain. Then he turned back to Barbossa. "Ye'd best hope ye tell the truth, Captain Barbossa, or ye'll face untold misery!" he growled warningly at the man before he was led away.

As the two fish-faced crewmen hustled Barbossa back towards the _Pearl_, Jones rounded once again on Cecily. "I warned ye what it would mean to go back on yer word, lass!" he snapped. "I thought ye were smarter than that! I was sure ye would know better than to try and cheat Davy Jones!"

Cecily winced again. "I suppose it would be fruitless to try and explain meself?"

He laughed without mirth. "Explain yerself? What, are ye goin' to try and tell me this was all just a misunderstanding! Don't humiliate yerself, Commodore O'Connor! Ye went back on yer word and tried to make me look the fool!" Jones grabbed her around the arm with his claw, and yanked her up against him. "Tell me, Commodore, do ye fear death?"

Cecily attempted a charming smile. "As much as the next fellow, I suppose."

Again, Jones responded with a humorless laugh. "Tell me, truly, Commodore," he drawled. She winced. "Tell me; exactly how _much_ do ye fear death?"

She swallowed. "Not as much as ye'd like, I'm afraid."

"Is that yer way o' declining me offer o' a hundred years before the mast?" Jones snapped. "Because if it is, dearie, I'm afraid that means the Locker fer ye."

Cecily paused, but only briefly. Then she resolutely drew up her chin. "I ain't no stranger to hardship, darling," she announced, meeting his gaze with so little fear that Jones couldn't help but be surprised. "I'll take me chances."

"Not so fast!"

Both Cecily and Jones swiveled around at the unexpected shout. Before them stood Will Turner, a knife in one hand, and the thumping, veiny pink heart of Davy Jones in the other.

Davy Jones let go of Cecily's arm, and she quickly danced away from him. He paid her hasty retreat no mind as he advanced on Will. "What do ye think ye're doing, boy?" he snarled.

But the snarl was by no means enough to hide the fear in his watery eyes. Will smirked. "I'm setting free my father," he announced. "And I'm doing so by ending your life."

Jones continued to advance on the young man before him. "Would ye truly do so?" he snarled, his lipless mouth curling into a dastardly smile. "Take me life away, and replace me on me ship? I'm afraid ye're unprepared fer the toil and misery me job has to offer."

"I'm no broken-hearted fool," Will returned, rather viciously. "I know that when I come ashore every ten years that the love of my life will always be waiting for me. She will never desert me. She is not your Calypso."

Jones gave a violent shake at the sound of the name. "How would ye know of that?" he shouted.

Will smirked. "A little bird told me, I'm afraid."

The name "Sparrow," angrily escaped the tentacle-faced pirate captain's mouth.

"Yes, it was indeed Jack Sparrow who let the name slip," Will said, smiling with fake benignity. Then, the smile melted off his face, and his normally dewy brown eyes hardened. "Good bye, Davy Jones."

Will lifted the knife high above his head and brought it down quickly towards the heart in his hand.

"No!" Jones cried out, racing forward as the knife penetrated the heart. There was a sickening squishing noise, and then the heart ceased to thump.

Jones froze mid step. He clutched at his chest, which struck the onlookers as strange, considering the fact that Jones' heart didn't rest under his ribs. The squid-faced captain inhaled sharply, stumbling and falling to his knees. A whisper left his lips; a whisper that sounded strangely like "Calypso." Then, with that, Jones fell forward and landed in a heap on the deck. He was dead.

Everyone within eyeshot stared at Davy Jones as he lay lifeless on the _Sunrise_. Will swallowed, closing his eyes. He seemed to be bracing himself. Behind him appeared one of the deformed members of Jones' crew. "Will," the crewman rasped.

Will turned around, surprised to hear his name. "Father," he whispered.

"Bootstrap," Barbossa murmured, his eyes wide. He backed away from the man he'd once sentenced to a fate worse than death.

Bootstrap paid his old captain no attention, instead focused solely on his son. "Will," he said again. "The time has come."

Will stared at his father. "Come," Bootstrap beckoned. "The _Dutchman _must have a captain."

Will nodded, and took his father's outstretched hand. Both he, Bootstrap, and the other crewmen from Jones' ship vanished. Moments later, the _Flying Dutchman_ disappeared beneath the waves.

There was silence on board the _Sunrise_ and the _Pearl_. The crews of both ships didn't seem to know how to respond to the strange occurrence. On the _Pearl_, Elizabeth Turner looked wide-eyed and heartbroken. Jack Sparrow, who had appeared at some point during the confrontation without anyone noticing, laid his hand on her shoulder. Barbossa turned to glower at Cecily. Cecily ignored him, turning in surprise to see Norrington beside her, staring down at her in very strange way.

"Cap'n," Marjorie said rather hesitantly.

Cecily turned to her first mate. "Aye?"

Marjorie nodded at Jones' body. Cecily gave her head a little shake, reverting back to business. "Right," she agreed. Surveying her ship, her eyes fell on two of her crewmen. "Daniels, McGregor," she barked at the two men.

The two men snapped to attention. "Aye, Cap'n?" the one called McGregor asked.

She gestured at the carcass of Davy Jones. "Return Mr. Jones to the sea he held so dear," she ordered.

The two men nodded their acquiescence and hefted the body of Davy Jones off the deck of the _Sunrise_. Barbossa stormed over to Cecily as her crewmen carried Jones away, presumably to throw him over the side. "Commodore," he snarled down at her. "What was the meanin' of that?"

"The meanin' o' what?" she asked innocently.

"Draggin' me into yer confrontation with Jones," he snapped. "Doesn't bode well with the code, ye betrayin' me in such a way."

"Don't talk betrayal to me, Barbossa," Cecily returned icily. "When ye refused to stab the heart as ye promised me, what other course o' action could ye possibly have expected me to take?"

"And Turner?" Barbossa growled.

"How could ye possibly blame that on me?" Cecily said carelessly. "Next time, ye'd do well to better guard yer prize."

Barbossa's lip trembled with fury. Cecily smiled in a manner that was meant to be placating. "Now, now, Captain Barbossa," she said softly. "There ain't no reason to fret. At the very least ye'll get yer ship, and I promise ye that. The moment the prisoners are returned to dry land, Sparrow will be off yer ship, and ye will be free to sail off with Sao Feng to find Calypso. _That_ I will guarantee."

Barbossa looked at her distrustfully, but shook her hand anyway. "Our accord stands," he agreed. "Don't make the mistake of going back on it. I'll not be so understanding the second time." With that, Barbossa turned on her and stormed back over to the _Pearl_.

Cecily sighed, surveying her ship. Marjorie began calling out orders to set sail for Dominica. She began the walk back to her office. There was a cool sweat beading on the back of her neck, an unwelcome reminder of how close she had come to visiting Davy Jones' locker. Never before this day had Cecily ever felt so lucky in her life.

* * *


	32. Leaving You Behind

Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: This is the final chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed during the course of the story! Hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Chapter 34: Leaving You Behind

Cecily O'Connor's fleet sailed into the Dominican harbor, towing eight Navy ships in their wake, their battle less than a day behind them. The ships pulled up alongside the docks and dropped their anchors, bringing their final journey together to a close. Once every anchor had been dropped, the pirate ships began unloading their prisoners and escorting them to the brigs of the eight Navy ships. Their orders were to lock up the rest of the prisoners and help themselves to whatever cargo the Navy ships still held. Cecily was supervising the transfer of prisoners from her spot on the deck of the _Sunrise_ when, to her surprise, there was a great splash, and the _Flying Dutchman_ appeared beside the _Black Pearl_.

Her surprise only grew when she saw the ship's crewmen – now free of their fish-like appearance – escorting several Navy men down the gangplank. Frowning, she made her way to the supernatural ship. Its new captain was already coming down the gangplank, and Cecily met with Will Turner on the docks. "Captain Turner," she said with a small grin, showing him a tad more respect than he was accustomed to. "Imagine me surprise to be seein' ye here."

He smiled, and nodded at her. "I'm simply abiding by your orders, Commodore. I'm returning these men to their respective brigs, just as ye wished."

Cecily stood there, still grinning slightly, and gave Turner a once over. His shirt was open just enough to show off a long jagged scar that she doubted had been there before, and his hair was down around his shoulders, tied back from his face with a bandana. He carried Davy Jones' chest under his arm. "Captainship suits ye, Turner," she murmured.

"Thank you, Commodore."

She looked down to the dock momentarily and then back up at him. "Well, I suppose ye saved me neck back there," she announced. "And while I know ye certainly didn't do what ye did to help me, I figure I ought to thank ye anyway."

"You're welcome," he replied, smiling again. "And thank you, for helping me."

She nodded. Will looked off in the direction of the _Pearl_. "Well, Commodore O'Connor," he said. "If you'll excuse me, I only have a limited amount of daylight left, and then I'll be confined to the sea for ten years. I'd like to visit my wife."

Her grin widened. "O' course, Captain Turner. The last thing I'd do is stand in yer way. Have fun."

He smiled, and strode away. As he walked towards the _Pearl_, Elizabeth Turner happened to come out on deck and see her husband approaching the black-sailed ship. A huge, ecstatic grin spread across her face, and she rushed down the gangplank into Will's waiting arms.

Cecily supposed that was adorable, but she had more important things to do than watch the newlyweds spend their last night together. Will and Elizabeth disappeared in the general direction of the beach, and Cecily made her way over to the _Pearl._

However, on the other side of the _Pearl_ was the _Empress_, and before she could board the first ship, Sao Feng marched down his gangplank and walked purposefully towards her. Cecily stopped where she stood, smiled for the pirate lord, and waited for him to reach her.

"Aye, Sao Feng?" she asked as he halted before her. "What can I do ye fer?"

"I desire reassurance," he returned.

"Reassurance o' what?" she replied. "That Captain Barbossa will lead ye to yer li'l sea goddess? Don't ye fret now, darling, I intend to see to it that he does."

He gave a short, soundless, mirthless laugh. "And you can promise me that he will indeed take me to _Calypso_? That he won't lead me off somewhere else?"

"Well, I can promise ye that if he does he'll have me to answer to, as well as yerself," Cecily said.

Sao Feng gave her a distrustful look. "If I find anyone other than Calypso waiting for me at the end of my journey, you may expect to see me again," he warned her.

"I'm sure I will," Cecily smirked. "Now, I suggest that ye head back aboard yer ship and hustle yer prisoners off. I believe Captain Barbossa will want to leave very shortly. Ye best prepare to sail."

He gave her a curt nod, and headed back to his vessel. Before stepping on the gangplank, he paused and gave her a final, threatening look. Cecily responded with her usual cheeky grin. Sao Feng turned from her, and boarded the _Empress_.

She was about to march up the gangplank of the _Pearl_, but her route was cut off when Pintel and Righetti came scrambling down, escorting the last of the _Pearl_'s prisoners. They were laughing in their usual dim-witted manner and making fun of the Navy soldiers. As they scurried down the docks towards one of the eight hostage Navy ships, Cecily turned to find Captain Sparrow standing at the top of the gangplank, watching his crewmen escort the prisoners away. "Captain Sparrow!" she called up to him.

He jumped slightly, looked down at her with the face of someone who'd just caught a whiff of an unpleasant smell, and glanced every which way before his eyes finally alighted on her face. A smile formed on his lips that, when paired with his usual maniacal eyes, was rather unnerving. "Commodore O'Connor!" he called back. "To what do I owe the pleasure of yer… presence?"

Cecily smirked. "I'd like to have a word with ye in me office regardin' yer prisoners, Captain Sparrow!" she announced. "Why don't ye head on over, and I'll meet ye in there?"

Was it her imagination, she wondered, or did Jack Sparrow suddenly seem uneasy? "Why ever would ye need me to walk all the way over to yer ship when ye can have that word with me right here, right this moment?"

"Because, Captain Sparrow," she drawled without missing a beat. "I have other very important things to tend to, and this way is just easier fer me. I suggest that ye do what I ask o' ye. Please?"

The please was clearly a formality. Anyone could tell she expected her orders to be immediately complied with, no questions asked, even with that cheeky smile on her face. He didn't appear to like it, but Jack smiled back at her – rather insincerely if truth be told – and began walking down the gangplank.

"As ye wish, Commodore," he said with an exaggerated show of courtesy, touching the brim of his hat as he passed her. Then he sashayed down the docks toward the _Bloody Sunrise_.

Cecily watched him carefully as he walked away. He strode up her gangplank, gave Marjorie a bow as he passed her, and then swaggered through her office door.

She spared a glance up at the _Pearl_. Captain Barbossa had suddenly appeared on deck and was staring down at her. Their eyes met in perfect understanding. They shared their stare for only a moment. Slowly, Cecily's cheeky grin returned, and she winked at Barbossa. He touched the brim of his hat, and smiled rather nastily. Then he turned from her and began yelling orders to the crew of the _Pearl_. Cecily's grin faded, and she walked at a dawdling pace back to the _Sunrise_. For some reason, she had a very strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't quite name. Ignoring it, she marched up her gangplank and strode inside her office.

When she entered the room, she found Jack sitting in her chair, his feet up on the desk, picking trinkets up off her desktop and turning them around in his hands, examining them. Cecily felt rather taken aback to find him sitting in a manner that she often sat in herself. Giving her head a small shake, she pushed the unsettled feelings to the back of her mind and sauntered towards the desk, taking a seat in the chair she usually gave to guests. She saw no need to lecture Sparrow about where he was supposed to sit. This was going to be humiliating enough for the man.

As she sat down, he looked up at her, gave her that crazy-eyed insincere smile he usually gave people, and set the trinket he was currently holding down on the desktop in the exact place he'd taken it from. "Ye wished to see me, Commodore?" he drawled, clearly still annoyed that she'd pulled him from his ship and forced him to come to hers.

She smirked at him. "Aye, that I did," she replied. "I wish to discuss with ye the nature in which yer prisoners were treated."

"Am I being reprimanded or rewarded?" he asked, smirking back.

"Reprimanded, I'm afraid."

Captain Sparrow picked up yet another trinket from the desktop and turned it around in his hands, examining it much like he had the trinket's neighbors before it. "I see," he murmured lazily. "And why is Captain Barbossa not here, sharing in the reprimand? I can assure ye, he is equally, if not more guilty, of whatever mistreatment ye believe our prisoners to have suffered."

"Everything in its due time," she returned. "I asked to see ye specifically because I'm sure yer co-captain _was_ more responsible fer said mistreatment."

"Ah," he exclaimed, setting down the trinket, his eyes lighting up. "So ye wish me to… play the informant."

"We understand each other," she smiled.

Jack Sparrow leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on his heart, and affected the appearance of an appalled man. "Well, Commodore O'Connor," he began, his voice filled with insincere sorrow. "What I saw on board the _Black Pearl_ was… truly terrible indeed. I assure ye, most adamantly, that I most certainly did not partake in the many atrocities practiced upon the young Navy soldiers by Captain Barbossa and a select few of his crewmen. And, believe me, when I say many, I do mean many, and when I say atrocities, well… I do mean atrocities. Captain Barbossa and his men performed many an appalling deed that brought tears even to _my_ horribly experienced eyes."

Cecily carefully concealed the smirk she could feel forming on her face. Sparrow was certainly laying it on thick. "It sounds terrible," she murmured. "I would be much obliged if ye would list the exact _atrocities_, as ye call them, that Captain Barbossa performed upon yer prisoners."

"I would gladly do that," he replied, swinging his feet down off the desk and standing. His large honey brown eyes bored into her vivid green ones. "However, first I feel I must ask, exactly why it is that ye give a damn exactly how poorly the Navy men were treated. Seems to me, that the treatment of Navy soldiers would be yer last worry."

She refused to rise to the bait, only smiling in a benign manner. "I have enough crimes to me name without adding 'mistreatment o' prisoners during wartimes,' to the list."

Jack smirked at her. "From one pirate to another pirate, I personally can't see why ye'd be concerned with additional crimes bein' accredited to yer name. Perhaps the reason ye seem so concerned about the treatment of prisoners is the same reason ye showed such mercy on the battlefield – er, sea, or whatever it is ye want to call it. Perhaps the reason ye are so concerned is because of a certain Navy commodore, and his bestest friend in the whole wide world, a certain Navy captain. Perhaps," Here, he came around the corner of her desk and leaned down into her face. Cecily crinkled her nose at the stench of his breath. "The reason ye care about the treatment of our prisoners is that ye hope to help Commodore Norrington and Captain Matthews regain their positions in the King's Royal Navy. Could that possibly be the reason, Commodore O'Connor?"

Cecily grinned cheekily and shrugged, decidedly unashamed. "I see no reason to burn bridges, Captain Sparrow," she replied.

He smirked again, standing back up straight. "I see," he drawled. "Forging alliances where necessary." Jack strode away from her. He opened his mouth to speak again, but suddenly froze in the center of the room, staring out the window. Cecily glanced over her shoulder to watch him. She slowly raised an eyebrow at his shocked and frozen posture. Suddenly, he took several very quick steps towards the window, grabbing the sill in both hands, and looked intently out at the sea, his eyes forlorn.

"Something the matter, Captain Sparrow?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Jack's head snapped to the side, his gaze traveling from the window to her face. His eyes widened in that crazy manner, but this time there was no smile to accompany them. There was something much more upsetting in his face.

Cecily didn't let his stricken expression throw her. "Ye look pale," she observed.

Captain Sparrow turned quite suddenly from the window, stalked across the office, and threw open the office door, storming out on deck.

For a moment, Cecily remained in her seat, examining one of her hands. She swallowed. There was an odd feeling of guilt welling up inside of her that she hadn't quite expected to feel. Her attempts to ignore it were futile. Finally, she stood, and left the office.

Upon reaching the deck, she saw the _Black Pearl_ sailing away from the docks, side by side with the _Empress_. That was not the only sight to greet her, however; Captain Sparrow was at the side of her ship, preparing to drop one of her longboats into the water.

She approached the pirate captain cautiously. His mannerisms were rather wild and jerky. Cecily wasn't quite sure what to attribute his crazed movements to. "Why, Captain Sparrow, what's this I see?" she spoke up. "Are ye stealin' one o' me longboats?"

"Of course I am," he returned, still preoccupied with his work. "Can ye really expect me not to, luv, after that stunt ye just pulled? I think ye owe me at the very least a longboat."

"Whatever do ye mean?" Cecily asked him, affecting innocence.

He stopped what he was doing, stood up straight, and smirked at the pirate woman in front of him. "Ye were distracting me, m'dear, so that my _lovely_ fellow captain could commandeer me ship right out from under me nose. Ye help Barbossa steal me ship, I take yer longboat. Fair's fair, would ye not agree?"

Cecily acted shocked. "I would never do such a thing!"

"No? Wouldn't ye? I find that extremely difficult to believe under the circumstances. Is that not Sao Feng's ship, the _Empress_, sailing off alongside my _Pearl_? Let me guess: ye give Barbossa me ship, he takes care of yer Sao Feng problem. Can't say I really blame ye, luv; ye _were_ in a tight spot there, I suppose."

Jack returned to preparing the longboat. "Don't ye complain to me about a missin' longboat," he continued. "I think I deserve it. Ye accept the consequences when ye turn thief, dearie."

"I beg yer pardon, darling," Cecily couldn't help but reply. "But even if I _were _to have done what ye claim I did – which I did not – then I still couldn't be called a thief, seein' as I wasn't actually the one who stole yer ship."

"Ah, yes, I see yer point," he said, looking up at her to deliver a smirk. "My, my, luv, from pirate Commodore to common accomplice. How the mighty do fall."

He let his words sink in, bending back over the longboat. Cecily was rather taken aback by his reply. She hadn't expected that out of him. As she watched him ready the longboat a moment longer – the work was a little too much for a single man – she began to question her earlier perceptions about him. Perhaps she had underestimated the other pirate captain. However, as unsettled as she was, she let another cheeky grin cross her face. "A word o' advice, Captain Sparrow," she announced. "If ye're goin' to take one o' me longboats, I suggest ye take the one o'er there." Saying this, she gestured over to the longboat beside the one Jack had chosen. He looked up and followed her finger with his gaze. "The one ye've settled on leaks," she smirked.

He smirked back at her. Then Cecily turned from him and walked away, crossing the deck to the gangplank. The unsettled feeling stayed with her as she left. She was certain now that she had underestimated Jack Sparrow – and something told her she would meet him again one day.

As she strode down the plank to the docks, she encountered the very person she'd been going to see: Commodore Norrington.

Norrington looked surprised to see her, too. Cecily supposed he'd been on his way to visit her much like she'd been on her way to see him. She stopped on the docks, staring up at him, and he stared back at her. "Um… Cecily," he murmured. "I just wanted to make sure the situation concerning the prisoners and such is, uh… taken care of. I mean, I wanted to make sure that everything was clear. I mean, I just wanted to…"

Cecily smiled at him. "I understand," she interrupted his ramble. "I was comin' to see ye fer that very same reason. All the prisoners have been returned to their ships – albeit, they've been locked in their brigs. I'll let ye and Matthews decide what to do with them now."

He nodded. "I plan to send for additional Navy forces once you and your fellow pirates leave port," he explained. "Then I suppose I will have to convince my superiors that I did what I did for the good of the Crown."

Cecily smirked. "Good luck with that."

He laughed slightly. "I think I can manage it."

Her smirk grew into a genuine smile. James was, as always, surprised to see the grin. "I know ye can," she replied.

James smiled as well, bowing his head. The two of them stood before one another, an awkwardness settling over them. "Well, then," Cecily said finally. "I suppose that's that. I'll be disbandin' the fleet now, and goin' on me way."

He nodded. The two of them were quiet again for another moment, and then James looked up at her with a rather rueful smile. "I suppose I won't ever be seeing you again," he murmured.

A cheeky grin spread across her face. "I wouldn't say never," she replied.

The two of them smiled at one another for a moment, and then Cecily gave him a nod. "Good bye, James," she said, turning from him.

James caught her arm as she walked away and pulled her back towards him. She looked up at him, seeing his intention in his eyes. "I'm not a 'kiss good bye' type o' girl, James," she announced.

He smirked. "Then you slept with the wrong man," he returned.

Cecily raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her face again. James cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back. It lasted only a moment, but neither party could say they didn't enjoy it.

They pulled away from one another, and Cecily gave him another smile and nod. "Good luck, James," she said.

"And to you," he replied.

Cecily turned from him and walked back up her gangplank. James watched her go, and then, once she had disappeared from view, turned back in the direction he came from and returned to the _Dauntless_.

* * *

All over the harbor, good-byes were being said. Commodore Norrington and Captain Matthews remained in port, keeping guard over the eight Navy ships filled with hostages. At sunset, Will Turner left the chest containing his heart in the possession of his wife, Elizabeth, and returned to the _Flying Dutchman_. The _Black Pearl_ and the _Empress_ continued their voyage together to find Calypso. Jack Sparrow made his way out of the Dominica harbor in the borrowed longboat from Cecily O'Connor's ship, already hatching plans to regain his beloved ship. The many pirate captains who had congregated to fight the battle against Lord Beckett waited only until the fleet had been officially disbanded, and then they sailed out of the Dominica harbor, fanning out in all directions, and returned to their lives of pillaging, plundering, and (in the case of Jim Sauder) smuggling. The _Bloody Sunrise_ also set sail from the harbor, the last to leave. The crew and captain of the red-sailed ship didn't know where they were going or what new adventure was waiting for them, but they knew they were prepared to face anything. Captain Cecily O'Connor knew that no matter what, she had the map that Tia Dalma had given her, and she had the most loyal pirate crew in the Caribbean to go with it. No matter what new adventures were in store for her and her _Bloody Sunrise_, she was ready for them. After all, she was no stranger to hardship; she would take her chances, and embrace their next voyage.

* * *

The End

* * *


End file.
